vs the Silence
by KittyGoddess415
Summary: The season finale rocked my socks, and inspired me to fill in the gaps and the blanks in the episode. Each chapter will skip around POVs, hence no one is named in the title. 7/13/09: COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1: Sarah

Title: … vs. the Silence

Author: KittyGoddess415

Characters: Chuck/Sarah

Chapters: 1 of ? WIP

Summary: The season finale rocked my socks, and inspired me to fill in the gaps and the blanks in the episode. Each chapter will skip around POVs, hence no one named in the title.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't write for the show, I don't own the characters, but I like to play pretend.

***

"Walker and Larkin, together again, finally, we can get out of here."

Her tongue is lead in her mouth, unspoken words tumbling through her head fighting for air. Unbeknownst to her, her lips are moving, opening, closing, trying.

(I need to find Chuck)

(I'm in the wedding!)

(I hate you)

(I love you)

(I look at you and can't stand it)

(This is my dream)

(This should be my dream)

(This is a nightmare)

(The General is trying to help)

(The General is a bitch)

(I want Project Bartowski back)

(I don't care about the Intersect Project)

(I'm in love with Chuck)

(I don't want to go)

"I have to go," finally slips out.

Bryce nods with a smile, "Of course. I'll pick you up later."

With a noncommittal nod, Sarah practically runs from the room.

To no one in particular, Bryce sighs. "Bartowski. Again."

***

(Whatever you do, don't think, Sarah.)

She's hopping around on one foot, struggling to get her heels on in the tiered confection that Honey had convinced Ellie was the proper bridesmaid dress. Sarah had taken one look at the dress and at the pleading, desperate look on Ellie's face, and it had been crystal clear that the pepto pink was, well, Awesome.

(I hope Chuck doesn't-)

She brutally cuts off that thought. However it would end, it wouldn't be good. That part of her life was...

"Where the hell is my blonde?!"

(Damn it!) Sarah grabs her bouquet and runs. Who'd have thought she'd ever be grateful to Honey Woodcomb? She enters the room with a sheepish smile, taking her place with the bridesmaids, trying desperately, and failing miserably, to avoid a thought, a breath, eye contact with the lone rooster in the hen house. She could feel his gaze on her, and (damn it!) she looks up. Every time.

(No, don't ask-) Sarah finds herself pleading with a higher power she has only just begun to believe in for help, seeing the look Chuck's eyes that she loved and dreaded. It was the same determined look in his eyes immediately before he did something crazy and heroic. (Damn it, Chuck, you know you belong on the Intersect Project!)

As they leave the room, the words again pour through her. And how tragic that this time, she knows exactly what she has to say.

"I wanted to-"

(I can't, I don't want to say-) "Uh, Ellie wanted me to make sure you had the rings," Sarah virtually stutters, silently cursing herself. Anything, anything, to forestall what she knows is coming. That look, that stubborn, determined, adorable look is in his eye. (I can't believe I won't see-) Looking down, she brushes his suit off, straightens his boutonniere, and blinks, rapidly, taping out the Morse code of her emotions, if he would only notice. Her mouth first, now her eyes, her tears, her body physically reacting to the impending emptiness.

"You look like a real spy." It slips out of her mouth unbidden, her first unguarded moment, and unsurprisingly inspired by the genuineness of the man standing before her now.

"You look like a real bridesmaid." His eyes communicate more, that she is more, more real with him than anywhere. More real with him than in her own head. Her middle name is Lisa, she once whispered to him, whispering to him of her past when she dared not indulge in remembering it. His trust, his openness, remind her of what she once had, once was. A real girl. Maybe even his, if the Fates would allow.

"Sarah, I-"

(No, no, no -) "Wait, uh, there's something I have to tell you."

"I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait any longer, okay?" And as he continued, her heart hurting in her chest, the hollow ache, the utter silence of her heartbeat, all she could think was,

(Oh, God, Chuck. You are going to wish you did…)

***


	2. Chapter 2: Chuck's Challenge

Ch. 2 – Info and disclaimers in Ch. 1

"…Sarah Walker, will you do me the honor of" (sleeping with me, loving me, marrying me, saving me) "taking a vacation with me?"

The look on her face, the catch of her heartbeat in that infinitesimal pause, makes Chuck's heart soar, seeing something of what he hopes the future holds has crossed her mind too. (It's going to be so different now. No more guns, no more spies, just mai tais and sunshine, and-)

"Chuck, I'm leaving in the morning…the details are classified, but I'm working on the new Intersect Project with Bryce-"

"Bryce." (Again. Of course.)

"I'm so sorry. I wanted to wait until after the ceremony to tell you-"

(Wait till later. _Later_. Closer to you just walking away...you wanted to _wait?!_) Chuck's brain simply grinds to a halt, neurons misfiring and his heart, breaking. "Thank you for coming to the wedding," he mutters bitterly. "Good for the cover." (Because of course that's what matters. Not how much you just broke my heart.)

And he simply walks away. (You are such an idiot, Chuck. How could you ever think she'd run away with you?)

He doesn't see the look on Sarah's face as she turns around, his only instinct to get away, find some quiet and he rounds the corner --

-- to run into his father's broad smile. "Today's the day we'll remember forever, son!" His father's enthusiasm begs that Chuck reciprocate the sentiment.

(Oh yeah, yeah I will.) He doesn't know how he manages the smile, but it must be convincing since his father doesn't follow him. (Sarah would've been able to tell. Damn it. I just don't understand --)

He wanders into the reception hall, into the quiet, and finds what he's looking for – liquid solace, a bottle of champagne.

(Bottle for me, and a glass – oh, screw the glass.) He takes a swig straight from the bottle, and makes a beeline for a table, to sit, and hurt, in peace. The quiet hum of the staff setting up turns to white noise and helps to numb the confusion. He finally lets out a deep breath, and tries to pull himself back together. Succeeds, even…"Oh! Oh my god!"

…Except for the two bodies under the table.

***

"I believe we've met before," came a voice Chuck had hoped never to hear again. (Oh no, not now, so damned close to a normal life…_come on!_)

"Ted Roark?"

"No, _I'm_ Ted Roark, and you're the CIA agent who's in deep trouble. By the way, congratulations on your sister's happy day. Her gown is gorgeous. Full bodice, love the beading."

(Ellie…oh God, no…) Chuck's anger boils up as he bites out, "What the hell do you want?"

"Ooh, there's no need to curse," Roark mocks. "You know damn well what I want."

"I --" (Stall, stall! Maybe someone will come in…)

"I want the Intersect cube."

And there it lies. The demand Chuck knew was coming. (And at the risk of my sister's life…) "I, I can't – I can't give you that."

Roark merely smirks. "Oh, you'll find a way, I'm sure." Roark pushes his chair back, grabs the bottle of champagne and starts to walk away from the table. Turning back, he adds, "Oh, sorry I forgot the threat part." He fixes Chuck with a hard look. "If you don't deliver that cube within a half hour, 40 minutes tops with traffic, I'm gonna kill the bride." Roark examines the label on the bottle of champagne as he walks away again. "Nice," he remarks as he leaves.

(I'm going to get that damn cube, and get you the hell out of my life, and away from my family. Nothing is going to ruin this for Ellie) He rises from the table, charges down the hallway and enters the chapel, knowing that the next few moments could spell disaster for his sister.

"Chuck, sorry, can I talk to you real quick, I'm just feeling a little nervous," comes Morgan's voice behind him.

"Morgan, I'm so sorry, I can't talk right now," Chuck says, looking beyond Morgan, his mind racing with panic and determination.

"Hey, hey, hey," Morgan continues, "what's the matter? You could tell me." He stands a little bit straighter. "I might be able to help."

"It's, uh…It's, uh…" (Wait, he might actually be able to help…Oh Morgan, so sorry, but…) "it's the rings, it's the rings, I have to go home and get them." (Morgan, you're about to save all our lives right now if you can just…) "Find Sarah, pull her aside and _specifically_ tell her that I forgot the rings." (She'll know…however crappily that conversation ended, she'll remember I showed her the rings…)

"The wedding is in twenty minutes, Ellie's going to _kill_ you!" Morgan gasps out.

"Thanks for that," Chuck replies with a pained smirk. (Rather _she_ kill _me_ than _get_ killed, stupid spy intrigue, why did I ever-)

"Unless," Morgan begins, "I stall the wedding." Chuck frowns as Morgan continues. "No one will even know you're gone, they'll just blame me, it'll be fine."

"You'd do that for me?" Chuck asks. (Morgan, I have been such a crappy friend, and you're willing to take a huge fall for me. God, I _hate_ the spy game right now…)

"Of course I would, dude. You've saved my ass a million times, it's about time I save yours. Now go!" Morgan charges down the hallway, intent on his purpose, leaving Chuck to be grateful for the family he'd chosen.

Chuck immediately pulls out his iPhone, scrolling down to the one number he'd hoped never to have to use. "C'mon, Casey..." (Well, maybe for another wedding…Come _on_, Casey, pick up your phone!)

"_This is Casey. Leave a message."_

"Casey? Casey! It's Chuck, uh, I, uh, I could use a hand here at the wedding with some…uh, some, uh, things out of balance, uh…Like they need you to adjust their center of gravity, you need a…uh, hopefully you get what I'm saying and can come help. Please. Soon."

(What the hell was that?) Shaking his head at himself, Chuck commandeers a car and speeds off to Castle.

(God, I hope Morgan got to Sarah somehow…this is…I'm done, I'm so done with this, I'm so tired of being shot at and threatened and tortured and…) He slams his hand against the wheel in frustration. (I can't have one, just one freaking perfect moment, not one, not me, not my family, because of stupid, arrogant, womanizing, idiotic…Bryce!)

He's getting his hands on that cube. He chants it to himself as he lets himself into Castle and charges for the locker he'd seen open and waiting as he'd left earlier. (No. No, no…it can't be-)

It's empty.

"It's gone," comes a voice behind him.

"Bryce?" (Of course it's Bryce, you idiot)

"The new Intersect," Bryce continues.

(No, you mean _not_ the one that formerly resided in my head, dipwad?) He lunges under the stairs towards Bryce. "Where? Where, where is it?" (You better tell me, right now, or so help me…)

"Chuck, you know I can't tell you that, that's top secret, not even Beckman-"

(Like I give a damn about Beckman…) "No, I need it. Bryce, _I need it._" (I swore I would never ask you for anything, but…) "My family's in danger." (And I would sell your soul and mine to keep them safe.)

Drawing a deep breath, Chuck explains, "Ted Roark and his FULCRUM team are at the wedding." (They are about to ruin the life of everyone I love.) "He's going to kill Ellie unless I give him the Cube." (And I will not allow that, I can't.)

Shaking his head, Bryce says, "Roark can't have it." He turns away to pick up a gun as Chuck protests.

"No, he'll murder everyone!" (Are you insane?!)

"No," Bryce answers. "You're going to give them _me_."

(Of course…) "They think _you're_ the Intersect." (Bryce saves the day, yet again…)

"They've been looking for me all along," Bryce responds as he screws on a silencer. "The Cube can't fall into the wrong hands, I made a promise to Orion."

(You made a promise to…my dad…?) "You knew…" Chuck breathes. (As if this wasn't FUBAR'd enough, you knew about my father, all along, all the time…)

"That was the deal," Bryce matter-of-factly replies. "Your dad knew I protected you at Stanford, I was the only spy he would trust."

Hurt, confusion and betrayal threaten to overwhelm Chuck. "I can't believe you've known this whole time," he whispers. (What else do you want from me, Larkin? How many ways can one person betray another? My future, my girlfriend, _my father_…)

Bryce approaches, shaking his head, the very picture of the concerned friend. "He wanted to keep you out of this," he explains, "but I knew you could handle the Intersect. I knew Sarah would find you, and most important, you deserve to know the truth about your father. He's a hero."

Chuck swallows tightly, trying desperately to process it all. (My father, the hero, who left me, who took Bryce under his wing…what the hell is this, Spider-Man? Peter Parker versus Harry Osborne? Ugh…)

Bryce loads his ammo with a smile. "Now, let's go get your sister married."

***

Chuck feels Bryce's gaze on him as they drive back to the church. (Quit staring at me, you're creeping me out!) "What?" he asks.

Bryce settles back in the passenger seat. "Nothing, I just…"

"Just what?"

"I never thought this is where you'd be."

(What the hell do you mean by that?) "What the hell does that mean?"

"I just never pictured you getting so…stuck."

"You get me kicked out of Stanford, let me believe you stole my girlfriend – and thanks for clearing that up for me, I had to find out from Jill when she basically set me up after I was stupid enough to take her back, thinking she actually _cared_ – and you wonder why I'm stuck?!" (If I didn't need you, I would throw you from this car!) Chuck looks to the heavens for help at the red light, then turns to look directly at Bryce. "Are you really that oblivious?" he asks.

Bryce is silent. "I was looking out for you," he finally says. "I knew you weren't cut out for field work, I was trying to help."

Chuck shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "You know what, Bryce? How about after this, _you stop trying to help me!_" He puts the car in park. "We're here." He gets out of the car, not noticing the blank and startled look on Bryce's face as he sits dumbfounded in the passenger seat. "Try not to get me or anyone I love killed, okay?" Chuck adds, and slams the driver door shut.


	3. Chapter 3: Awesomeness

Chapter 3 -- All disclaimers and summary in Ch. 1

* * *

(This is _not _awesome) Devon rushes up the stairs to grab Chuck's bearded best friend by the lapels. "Morgan, you are _ruining _my wedding," he threatens.

Morgan holds his hands up in self-defense. "Listen to me, if you hit me, know that it only teaches _me _to hit! Now for reasons I cannot say, I _have _to stall this wedding."

(You think you can interfere in my wedding and _not _explain?) "Tell me _why_," Devon says angrily.

"Because Chuck is in trouble and I'm _saving _him, man!" Morgan says, straightening away from Devon as his sense of purpose reasserts itself.

(Wait a minute...) "Chuck told you to do this," Devon repeats thoughtfully.

"Yes!" Morgan replies.

Devon hears Chuck's voice in his head, "Can you be awesome for me, Devon?" (For Chuck.) Aloud Devon tells Morgan, "Okay. Okay, I'm with you."

Morgan's relief and surprise is almost comical.

(I can be awesome for you, Chuck.) Devon stands with Morgan, to the shock of his parents.

"Domo arrigato, Mr. Roboto!" Jeffster! sings on while Devon tries to remember to breathe. (I hope Chuck is okay.) He looks around the church, trying to smile as if this were all part of the plan.

(Oh God, Ellie. She's gotta be losing her mind...) But the thought passes quickly. (I'm helping Chuck. Chuck the spy. Chuck the CIA agent. I'm helping the CIA.) He smiles genuinely then. (Awesome.) He pretends this is still the wedding band tryouts and relaxes into the surprisingly good groove the two computer geeks are putting down.

"Son, why are you letting Sam Kinison and an Indian lesbian wreck your wedding?"

"Dad, just, chill out, okay?" Devon leads his father back down as Jeffster! plays on, and he realizes just how long the song medley has been. (Wait. Chuck is in trouble, Morgan said. Does Morgan know about Chuck being a spy? Is Chuck _really _in trouble?) Devon frowns to himself then. (Not awesome.)

He allows himself to listen to the music and pretend this isn't his wedding that is in danger of being ruined, while his thoughts wander. (Are there spies here? That would be awesome. Wait. Not awesome - bad spies. What if there are bad guys here?)

He scans the crowd. (Nobody really _looks _like a bad guy. Do they wear a lot of black? It's a wedding though. All the guys are wearing dark colored stuff. Crap. Not awesome.)

He thinks of sighing, but knows that wouldn't be awesome either. So instead, he dances with a smile, and tries not to think about what he might be hearing from down the hall.

* * *

A.N.: Okay, I really wanted to try my hand at Devon, hopefully I didn't mangle him too badly! Next chapter will be Ellie, for this same time period. :) Hopefully up soon, and thanks for all the wonderful feedback! :)


	4. Chapter 4: Ellie's Day

Chapter 4 – Ellie's Day

Disclaimers etc. in Chapter 1. Enjoy!

**Note: **This is Ellie's view of the day, so even though it's Chapter 4, it really starts before Sarah and Chuck's conversation in the hall and overlaps all the other chapters.

* * *

(This is my wedding day.) Ellie looks at herself in the mirror, making sure all the details are right. (_This_ is _my _wedding day.) She smiles at herself, like she's testing it out. (Far be it for me to let Honey down by being less than awesome today.) She keeps the smile on her face while her mind wanders away to the honeymoon. (Just get me through this day, let me survive what Honey has planned…)

"Hi, can I talk to my sister? It'll only take a second." Chuck's voice wafts into the room as Honey answers the door.

"Oh no, Chuck, it's bad luck to see the bride before-"

"It's fine, I don't believe in that stuff," Ellie calls from the room. (You don't control everything, Honey, and there's no way you're keeping my brother out of here!)

"All right, just get in, get in, get in."

Chuck walks over to her, and she catches his gaze in the mirror with a smile. (Love you, baby brother.) She lets out a breath as he continues to stare at her silently. "What?" (You're weirding me out, Chuck.)

The look on his face is part pride, part pain. "Look at you. Ellie, your dreams are coming true."

(_My _dreams?) "If it were up to me, I would have a small ceremony on a beach, sand between my toes, people I love," she lets out a slightly strangled groan, (Hell, I'd settle for people that I _know_), "we all make sacrifices for family, right?" (This is for Devon. I can do this for him. I can be awesome. I _can._)

She and Chuck pause as they hear Honey counting off. "1, 2, 3…Where the hell is my blond?!"

Chuck continues, "Anyway, uh, I don't know exactly yet what I'm gonna get you for your wedding present, but I'll start with this. I quit the Buy More today."

"What?" Ellie whirls around to look at him, disbelief and hope warring for dominance. (Don't be joking, don't be joking…) Hope wins, and for the first time all day, it feels like, a genuine smile breaks across Ellie's face.

"The Buy More, is no more," Chuck confirms.

Ellie is nearly giddy in her glee. "Chuck, that is, that is incredible." (And I am so proud of you!) "What are you going to do with your future?" (Besides, well, whatever you want that isn't the Nerd Herd!)

"I don't know," he says thoughtfully.

(I might have a suspicion of _who_ you want to do it with, though.) As if hearing Ellie's thoughts, Sarah walks in with a smile, and Chuck's face goes wistful, the yearning so painful it almost breaks Ellie's heart. (I still don't understand what in the world goes on with these two…) Aloud, she can't help but goad him a little. "I made _my_ dreams come true, Chuck, what are you gonna do about yours?"

She tries to mentally send a little wedding day fairy dust with them for luck as Sarah and Chuck leave the bridal suite.

***

(What in the world did he say?) Ellie tries not to make it obvious that she's watching Sarah, but ever since she walked back into the room, she seems a little…cold. (I just don't get it, at all.) More than cold, Ellie decides. Brittle.

"Sarah?" Ellie tries to catch her attention. But it's as if a robot came to startled life, as Sarah seems to re-inflate with a frighteningly convincing smile. (Damn it.) "Can you make sure my veil is secured?"

"Oh, uh, sure," she replies, as Ellie turns back to the mirror. (What is going on in your head? What happened?) Ellie scrutinizes Sarah's face in the mirror, and she senses that Sarah is deliberately avoiding her gaze. (I can't take this...) "Sarah, what did he say to you?"

"Wh-what?" Sarah stammers. "Chuck?"

(No, Morgan. Of course, Chuck!) "Yes, Chuck, my brother, who may have just lost his mind, I _thought _in a good way, but maybe in the he-needs-to-be-committed-for-dumping-his-loving-girlfriend way?" (Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong...)

Sarah's eyes snap to hers when she says that. And the hurt and spark of anger in Sarah's eyes is actually reassuring.

"Or, not," Ellie corrects with a small soft smile. (Thank goodness.)

Sarah lets out a breath. "I'm sorry, Ellie. It's not Chuck, it's me." She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a second, and then meets Ellie's gaze in the mirror. "I am totally and completely in lo-"

"What did I tell you about the one foot clearance from any piece of furniture in this room?!" Honey's screech cut off whatever Sarah had been about to reveal. Ellie's resulting expression of sheer terror propels Sarah across the room to see what was wrong.

"Is there something I can do to help, Honey?" she asks, hoping against hope the answer is no.

"Yes, there actually is. Since these half-wits can't follow instructions, I need you to find Woody and tell him to retrieve the backup hosiery from the car. _Can you do that?_" She emphasizes each individual word of the question, condescension dripping from her tone.

(If it weren't for how much I love your son, I would-)

Sarah saves Ellie from inflicting bodily harm, answering, "Yes, of course, Honey, of course," and charges for the door.

***

Time passes in a crawl, and as Ellie feels the day slipping away, the panic begins to threaten.

"Okay, no Sarah. And that is definitely _not_ the Wedding March. Can one of you go out there and see what's going on? NOW?!" (Before I kill you for standing around doing nothing this entire time...) With deliberate sweetness in her voice, she continues, "Thank you! Thank you." After they run from the room, Ellie reminds herself, "Focus on the calm."

(Do not think about why you're hearing Mr. Roboto.)

(…Or about the fact that it is more than likely the lovely duo of Jeffster! playing)

(…Or about the fact that _this is your wedding day!)_

(…Or about how this day is not really yours)

She draws a deep breath, tries to slow her pounding heart.

(I love Devon)

(I can do this for him)

(I can be awesome)

(WHERE IS EVERYONE AND WHY AM I NOT MARRIED?!)

She can feel the anger beginning to course through her. (No one wants to see an angry bride. You must calm down. This is not awesome.) The thought brings a small smile to her face. (Find your calm, Ellie.) She takes advantage of her solitude and hikes up her wedding dress as she sits down cross-legged to meditate.

(This will all work out. This will all work out. This will all work out.)

With her eyes closed, she senses a brief ripple in the air, and opens her eyes for a split second. Unbeknownst to her, her father has already left the room.

***

(All right, I give up, where is everyone?!) Ellie leaves the bridal suite in search of anyone, and rounds the corner as Chuck and Sarah emerge from the other end of the hall.

"Chuck! What happened?" (And why is Sarah's dress shorter and you're _tucking in your shirt? Are you kidding me? On my __**wedding day?!**__)_

"Uh, uh, everything's all right, Ellie, there was just a minor centerpiece problem…"

(I'll show you a minor problem...) Before she can reply, bells begin to ring. (Not wedding bells. Those are…)

As she registers it's the fire alarm going off, Chuck simply groans, "Oh no."

She watches as guests run from the chapel and the sprinkler system engages. (You can't be serious. No. This is _not happening._) Ellie wipes the water from her brow in a futile attempt to salvage her makeup. (I can't believe…) "Wedding cancelled!" (And so is the rest of my life…)

***

She sits in the bathtub, swigging out of a champagne bottle, hoping to hide from the world and the catastrophe that was her sorry attempt at a wedding. (I let Honey plan the whole thing, work myself into a frenzy to be awesome and perfect for her, and for what?) She takes a deep drink as a knock sounds at the door. (I should've just fought for my wedding, at least then I would only be heartbroken and not bitter…)

"Ellie, are you all right?" Chuck's voice comes through the door.

(You're actually asking me that?) "Chuck, just please go away." (I just want to forget this day ever happened…)

Chuck comes in anyway, frowning down at her.

Ripping her veil off, she bites out, "I can't believe your _idiot_ friends ruined my wedding. I'm, I'm _never_ going to forgive Morgan for this."

"Well I think you're gonna have to," Chuck replies softly. He sits on the toilet seat lid with a pained look on his face and continues, "Because Morgan, and Lester and Jeff, they only did what I _asked_ them to do."

(No. No, no…) "What?" (Please, please be covering for them…)

"_I_ did all this, I forgot your rings, so I told them to stall, so if you're gonna be mad at someone you should be mad at me." His hushed tone tells her it's true.

(I can't believe…)

"Please say something," he asks.

The tears finally fall as her anger deflates. (You want me to say something?) "You ruined _the_ most important day of my life." Her heart aches in her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. (God, Chuck, my own brother, I ask you to do this _one thing _for me, and…)

"Look, Ellie, you have to trust me, okay?"

(After this? You want me to trust you after all of this?)

He pulls the wedding bands from his pocket. "Take these, and I'll take care of the rest." His face is confident and resolved as he leaves them on the side of the bathtub. "Trust me," he asks and leaves the bathroom.

As he closes the door, she takes another deep drink from the bottle. She hears voices on the other side of the door as she closes her eyes and rests her head on the tile wall behind her.

Another knock. "Ellie?" This time, it's Devon. She doesn't reply. "Ellie, honey, I know you're in there, and I know you're really hurting. But babe, I believe Chuck. He says he's going to take care of it, and…I think he will."

"He _ruined_ my wedding, Devon!" (How could he?!)

Devon opens the door and walks into the bathroom.

"Devon!" she weakly protests.

He shakes his head and smiles as he kneels next to the bathtub. "You look beautiful, honey," he says as he takes her hand. He gently strokes his thumb over the palm of her hand, making soothing circles. "I trust him, Ellie," he says, "because he saved _me_ too."

She puts the bottle down. "What?"

"Okay, so this is not awesome, but, remember when I screwed up that night? With the Klondike bar?"

She rolls her eyes. "Of course, how could I forget you taking advice from Morgan? Geez, Devon, that was _not _your brightest moment."

He nods, "I know. But you remember when we came back to the rose petals and champagne?"

"Of course, how could I forget?" she replies with a wistful smile. (Wait.) "Devon, are you telling me…"

He nods. "That was Chuck, not me. Much as I hate to admit it."

Ellie raises her eyebrows at him. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

Devon only smiles sheepishly. "I, uh, was hoping I'd never have to. Like I said, not awesome." He stands next to the tub and pulls her to her feet. "But, I think it's more important that you know that Chuck can do this. If he says he's going to fix it, he will."

She wraps her arms around his neck and tucks her face into his shoulder to cry just a little more. "I really hope so, Devon, because he kind of just broke my heart." From her position, she can't see Devon's expression of pain, but she feels his arms squeeze her just a little.

"Trust him, babe, and trust me. Chuck has his problems, but he's an awesome dude. He'll fix this somehow, I promise." Devon sighs to himself as the weight of keeping secrets settles on his shoulders again. "He will."

* * *

**A.N. **Sorry this took so long to get done, but as you can see, longer chapter, plus, allergies suck. =P Next up, who wants some Casey? :)


	5. Chapter 5a: Wedding, Redux a la Casey

Chapter 5a – Wedding, Redux a la Casey

**A.N.:** Disclaimers in Chapter 1. This chapter is going to cover the wedding, and jumps between various characters, so you'll get 5a, b, c, d, and a very quick e. Sorry this took so long, our host for Chapter 5d was annoyed with me and didn't want to play. Didn't want to post them until I could finish them. So here you go. :)

* * *

Casey's phone rings and he's surprised when he looks down and answers. (What the…) "Yeah, Walker. What is it?" (Who didn't I kill?)

Her request is simple. "Chuck wants to throw Ellie her dream wedding. Today."

"You're kidding!"

"It's Chuck," she simply replies.

(As though it explains it all. Well, actually it does.) "Roger that, we're on it." He closes his phone and takes a moment to process. (Today's mission? A perfect beach wedding for Ellie Bartowski.)

"All right, you sissies, for once you'll get to be sissies without me getting mad. Our mission is to tame a Bridezilla!"

He walks out into the main room of Castle, barking directions at his men that make him immensely grateful for their trust. (Order flowers? Get a beach permit…I'll take that myself. Runners, bunting…girly crap, all) There's a single moment of silence before they scatter, PDAs appearing and fingers flying as they begin to research and requisition. He approaches the main computer and begins researching beaches in the areas that are authorized for weddings. (Bartowskis are stand up people. And Ellie's always done right by me, even without Chuck's permission. Can't let her down.) He glances around and assures himself that his men are focused on their tasks, and not on the possible lady feelings of their commander. He grunts a generic thank you to the squad and those closest nod an imperceptible 'you're welcome.' (God, being on a team, made me...) He shudders even as his fingers start dialing. (Damn it, it's like I'm part of the godforsaken family.)

And that is how Casey finds himself here, barely thirty minutes later, surrounded by soldiers playing party planner. Worrying about lighting, and sand, silk, and taffeta. (I am not a pansy. I am not.)

(I could vomit.)

"Sir, how do you spell 'begonia'?"

"Sound it out," he barks. (How should I know?)

Another holds out a length of burgundy silk, which Casey immediately turns down. "No, no, no, no, that clashes with the bunting." (And damn my mother for teaching me what the hell that means.)

He puts the phone back up to his ear and continues his conversation. "Yes, I appreciate that you require extra time to permit the area, but this is a national security matter." (That should do it. Can't argue with the NSA.) He grunts in satisfaction at the tactic.

He strongarms the permits for the beach, and the rentals for the chairs and the gazebo come from the U.S. Military itself. (We have happy occasions too, damn it.) He fights the urge for a cigar, and instead requisitions tuxedos from the C.I.A. (Guess the pretty boy James Bond agency does have some use after all.) He surveys the men pacing through Castle, as dedicated to begonias and bunting as they would have been with bombings and battering rams. (Glad it's my men down here, anyone else would accuse me of being soft.)

He grunts his approval of the unit's progress and escapes outside of Castle to indulge in that cigar. It soothes him, the ritual of cutting the cigar, lighting it, the first puff of smoke. It's the closest Casey comes to smiling in public.

(Bartowski. Always Bartowski.)

If only he didn't actually respect the nerd. (Duty, loyalty, honor, all hallmarks of the Armed Forces, and of Bartowski.) He takes another satisfying draw from the cigar. (And it comes naturally. Kid would make a hell of an agent if he tried. Shame.) Another draw. (He doesn't even realize how he inspires loyalty, how he takes command.) Casey grunts as he ventures dangerously close to being sentimental. (Kid wants a picket fence and 2.5 kids, being an agent won't get him that. Good thing I don't want that.) One last satisfying draw and a series of smoke rings this time. His nerves soothed and his machismo recharged, he returns to the fray.

"All right ladies, status report!"

(Don't accuse me of any lady feelings, but I'll be damned if we let him down on our last mission, whatever that mission may be. This wedding is going to be the best that the United States can throw. In a day.)

* * *

**A.N.: **Hope you enjoyed our Colonel for a bit, I believe he'll be back in a future chapter or chapters. :) I loved how Casey was immediately on board with their last mission, and this is my guess as to why.


	6. Chapter 5b: Redux, a la Ellie & Devon

Chapter 5b – Wedding Redux, a la Ellie & Devon

**A.N.:** Disclaimers in Chapter 1. This chapter includes both Ellie and Devon's POVs, hopefully it's clear who is who. As for the question at Game Night that becomes relevant at the end, I made it up. Sue me. If NBC doesn't first. =P

* * *

The boxes start to arrive about an hour after Chuck leaves. Ellie opens the door repeatedly to find a progression of deliverymen at the door, each bearing multiple packages. Devon joins her and motions them in again and again with a smile.

"Awesome," he simply says. (I knew he could pull it off…)

Ellie's eyes brim with tears as she begins to open the boxes to find ensembles for the bridesmaids and groomsmen, backup hosiery and all. "Devon," she manages, holding her hand out. (I think I'm going to faint. It's everything, everything we'd need…)

He takes it and draws her into his embrace, stroking her back as she takes deep, shuddering breaths.

"He really is going to fix it, isn't he," she murmurs into his chest. (I will not cry, I will not cry...I'm getting married today…)

He kisses the top of her head. "He said he would, El. He loves you." (And it doesn't hurt to have the CIA to help. Way to go, Chuck.)

A quiet knock from the still-open door draws both their gazes. "Sarah!" Ellie exclaims. She breaks from Devon's embrace to meet Sarah at the threshold.

Sarah smiles, and clears her throat. "Um, there's something that Chuck wanted me to deliver personally." She reaches back outside and wheels in an I.V. stand with a garment bag hanging from it. "He said he hopes he remembers right."

Ellie holds her breath as she unzips it. (Remembers…?) She freezes as she sees what the bag holds. "Oh, Chuck," she breathes, tears springing to her eyes again. She brushes at them as she takes it in. (He must've meant that Game Night…the question about your perfect wedding dress…Oh, Chuck…) She laughs and cries, sniffling as she turns to answer Sarah. "Tell him he got it better than my fiancé did that night." She smiles and reaches her hands out to Sarah, "He's the best, Sarah, he really is."

Sarah takes Ellie's hands in hers and squeezes back. "I know, Ellie. Believe me, I know."

* * *

**A.N: **Yes, it's short. So what. When we see Ellie at the beach, she seems completely serene, which is a bit of a shift from the bride-to-be in the tub. This is my how and why. Plus, I need that Game Night question for the next part. You'll see.


	7. Chapter 5c: Wedding Redux, a la Sarah

Chapter 5c – Wedding Redux, a la Sarah

**A.N.:** Disclaimers in Chapter 1. This chapter actually takes place before 5b, and is the reason why I needed that Game Night question. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Sarah and Chuck stand side by side in the bridal boutique, eyeing varying shades of purple and pink. He'd insisted on picking Ellie's dress himself, but had pulled Sarah from her (thankfully completed) list of clergy, music and guests to help with the bridesmaids. (This is definitely _not _what a normal guy would do. But it's so Chuck.) The man in question wanders off, muttering to himself.

(Our last mission. And how fitting that it's not saving the world, just saving the day for someone he loves.)

She flips through the dresses, looking for something that fits Chuck's requirements. (No heavy fabrics, flowy, halter, pretty. Yeah, that's specific.) She sighs, but can't help but smile as she spots Chuck flitting from rack to rack like a schizophrenic hummingbird. She shakes her head and moves to the next rack. (A wedding, in a day. And all that money -- money that could take him wherever he wants to go -- all of it for Ellie.) She indulges herself and looks at him, memorizing everything about this moment and this man. (Once this is over...) She stops herself from completing the thought, the twinge in her heart unwelcome. (He's safe. That was the job. He's safe, he is, and it's time to move on to where I can do some good.) Trailing silk through her fingers, she sighs again. (Not good, Walker, no regrets, that's the motto.) She pulls the dress against her for a moment, feeling Chuck's gaze alight on her with uncanny awareness. She lets it drop and checks from the corner of her eye to see him look away. (Get your head in the game, Walker.) She turns to the rack in earnest, her trained eye weighing and assessing each dress in a heartbeat. (Ugh, what are these designers thinking? This is nearly impossible, on that vague description.) She spares a heavy-lidded glance at Chuck, still in whirling dervish mode. (But I know he'll find it.) As if waiting for that thought to cross her mind, she hears him call out, "Sarah!" from across the floor.

He holds out a dress for her approval. "It's not exactly it, but I don't think Ellie will mind. What do you think?" He gazes at her, innocent and wide-eyed, breathless for her opinion. She can feel the nervous energy pouring from him, but more than that, his strong sense of purpose. His certainty. (And you don't think being an agent is your calling.)

She turns her full attention to the specimen before her. (Oh, Chuck. How can I leave?) The dress is purple, with a deep V in the front and a criss-cross back, thin straps, flowy. Sarah's heart clenches just a little in her chest as she smiles at him. "I think it's perfect," she whispers. He rushes off to see about altering four in a hurry, leaving Sarah to stand there trying to catch her breath. (Does he even realize?)

She looks at the dress again and sighs. (Only you, Chuck. Only you would pick out a dress that could be a dead ringer for _my _answer that night.) Her eyes find him at the counter, seemingly giving the clerk a heart attack with his check. (You'd move heaven and earth for anyone you care about. And you wonder why I keep away, you wonder why I don't let you know how much I lo-) She reins her thoughts in as she inhales deeply. (Mission almost over, Walker. Stop wondering about Chuck and start clearing your head for the Intersect Project.) She catches him beaming at the captivated clerk, with four seamstresses gathered behind her.

"Sarah! They can do it! We can do this!" he calls to her. As she meets his gaze the wattage on his smile doubles and she has to catch her breath. (Focus, Walker. Mission. Almost. Over.) He reaches out a hand for her and her heart aches at the thought of not seeing him again.

And for the first time, Sarah allows herself to consider life without the CIA instead.

* * *

**A.N: **Still with me? I hope you're enjoying the ride and that I'm still being true to our beloved cast of characters. It's fun to play with such multifaceted and developed personalities, hopefully the voices are staying true. :) Next up, the problem child chapter...


	8. Chapter 5d: Wedding Redux, a la…Bryce

Chapter 5d – Wedding Redux, a la…Bryce

**A.N. **- Disclaimers in Ch. 1. This was the problem child chapter -- I think Bryce was still mad at me for Chuck chewing him out. He didn't want to talk for a while. I think I coaxed him out, though.

* * *

Bryce watches from the hillside, tucked amidst the dunes. (In another life, I'd be down there with them.) He raises the binoculars to his eyes and drinks her in. The dress is gorgeous, suits her perfectly. Shows off all her assets (no pun intended) to her best advantage. (Would even work on a seduction mission.) But she seems...softer somehow. There's an edge he remembers that seems blunted now. (You aren't my Sarah anymore, are you.) She smiles and laughs with the other bridesmaids and he feels the familiar pull, but slower. Somehow even slightly fading. (It's like her guard is down. I don't think you could go for a kill if you tried.) He looks her up and down again, trying to identify the feeling tightening in his chest. (Well, for Chuck, you could kill. Would kill.) He smirks bitterly. (Have killed.) He lowers the binoculars a touch as his mind drifts. (God, is this jealousy?) He sighs as he turns his binoculars to the trio approaching from the parking lot and focuses specifically on one Charles Bartowski. (You've come a long way since Stanford, Chuck.)

The agent in him can't help but notice how Chuck stands straighter, how he commands attention. The fact that Bryce is there for a beachfront wedding arranged in a day is testament to the man Chuck has become. (You're the guy who takes charge now, aren't you, Chuck? The one other people listen to naturally. The guy I dormed with would never have chewed me out the way you did at the church.) His eyes go a little cold and distant at the thought. (He wouldn't have the guts, or the self-confidence.)

But the Bryce who had been friends with Chuck in that former life can't help but notice that Chuck is still at his core the same innocent, genuine human being Bryce knew. (No other man would've moved heaven and earth to get this done, and no other man could inspire and charm enough people to do it.) He watches for a moment as the Bartowskis share a tender moment. He watches Chuck talk to Ellie, he can tell from the slope of Chuck's shoulders and the earnest look on his face that he's apologizing, probably for the fiftieth time in the past twenty minutes. (You still care, Chuck, you always will. And that's why you're the only one besides me I could trust. I wish you could see that.) But as he pans back to Sarah, he shares a half-hearted smile with the sand. (Okay, maybe I can see why you aren't so sympathetic.) Bryce catches the Bartowskis gathering in his periphery. He slowly scans the crowd, spotting Chuck's friends and coworkers scattered throughout the bride's side. (He and Ellie never cease to amaze me. Those two could rule the world if they tried. Every seat is taken, and everyone genuinely wants to be here. With loyalty like that, Fulcrum would never have existed.)

He moves his gaze back to Sarah as the wedding begins, catching the look she and Chuck exchange. And feeling the promise in the air, it's like the last piece of the puzzle he didn't want to see falls into place. (Yeah...Hope the CIA can trust another agent with the Intersect Project.) He watches her face as the officiant begins the vows, watches her eyes. He's a trained agent, he makes his money reading people. (And I don't even need training to read this one.)

"Sarah," he speaks low, barely restraining himself from taking advantage of her distraction. Her hand goes to her ear. "You're not coming with me, are you." It's a statement, clearly. (Out of respect for what we were, I can at least make this simple.)

He sees her answer, but he picks up the binoculars anyway. (A head shake. As expected.) He watches as she looks back towards Chuck, and gives himself a moment to be just another guy who lost the girl. (Bye, Sarah. I'm really going to miss you.) He stands, and walks away. (Alone. Again.)

He can't stop himself and turns one last time, halfway down the dunes, watching from the shoreline as Sarah and Chuck turn to glance at each other over and over again. He can practically see the unspoken vows hanging between them in the air, their eyes pledging a future to each other. (Take care of her, Chuck. You'll be pretty much all she's got.)

"Larkin, secure," he says into his watch. "Ready for extraction."

Sarah hears his voice in her earwig. She surreptitiously takes it from her ear and tosses it down the beach into the surf, smiling a final goodbye.

* * *

**A.N.: **Yeah, Bryce wasn't too happy with me. But I think he likes me a little better now. He'll get his moment later, I think, though even now I think he's feeling a bit redeemed.


	9. Chapter 5e: Wedding Redux, a la Chuck

Chapter 5e – Wedding Redux, a la Chuck

**A.N. **- Disclaimer in Ch. 1. This was meant to be the shortest, just a glimpse, but when I revisited it, turned out not. Snippets of Chuck through the planning and execution of Wedding #2.

* * *

He watches her. All day, he sneaks glances at her, hoping to hear or see something that tells him she won't go. He catches her, sometimes, having just turned away, and he smiles small secret smiles. (Gotcha. The Bartowski charm has still got something on you, at least.) As they talk of music and dresses, shoes and flowers, he watches her eyes, her smiles. (For someone who doesn't want a normal life, who'll never be normal, you sure are having fun, aren't you?) He keeps her moving and on her toes the whole afternoon, throwing everything he has into those moments. A laugh, a smile, all precious gifts from her that he stores meticulously against the coming void.

(Oh God, I love you.)

The thought stops him in his tracks for a second, and he looks at her with his heart in his eyes while she paces the bridal shop and arranges for delivery of the dresses and tuxes. "Sarah," he calls. She holds up one manicured finger to him and he smiles. (Agent Walker cannot be deterred until her mission is completed.) The moment passes, and Chuck tries to breathe again.

She hangs up the phone and walks over, casually running her hand down his arm as she joins him on the requisite huge sofa in the changing area. "What is it, Chuck?" she asks.

(Stay with me. Don't ever leave me. Love me for the rest of your life.) "Can you do me a huge favor?" is what comes out, slightly strangled.

She smiles, and it lights up her eyes. "Really? Even huger than arranging a wedding in a day?"

He laughs, and her eyes soften. (Look at me like that for the rest of my days.) "Touche', Agent Walker. Touche'. Okay, of all the tasks remaining in this highly-unprecedented day, this would be a huge favor."

She rests her face in her hand and her elbow on her crossed legs, doing her best impression of The Thinker. "I'm all ears."

"You're never just all ears. You're all everything." It sneaks out past his careful defenses, escapes into the air between them and he winces as he watches her register it. (Don't freak out. Don't _either of us_ freak out.) He rushes on, "I want you to deliver Ellie's wedding dress for me." (And to forget I said that first thing. Smooth, Chuck. She's still _leaving._)

She looks up at him with surprise. "You don't want to do it yourself?"

He shakes his head. "No, I have to get down to the beach and make sure all of that is going smoothly, but I want someone to explain it to her." He gives her a half-smile, "Unless you want me to ask Casey?"

They share a big laugh at the thought, the almost that was hanging in the air dissipating in its wake. Sarah nods solemnly. "I'll deliver it, Chuck, it'd be an honor to. What do you want me to say?"

He takes her hand, lacing their fingers together and scrutinizing the result. (Screw the tension, I'll take what I can get.) "That I hope I remember her answer from Game Night right."

Sarah looks at him suspiciously and Chuck keeps his face carefully blank. (Uh-oh, she caught me about the bridesmaid dress.)

"Game Night?" she asks neutrally.

He does his best to give her a wide-eyed, slightly confused look in return. "You know, the wedding dress question?"

Sarah smirks at him. "Yes, Chuck, I remember the question. And the answers. Including mine."

He raises his eyebrows at her, all innocence and shock. "You mean that was your serious answer?" (Don't freak out, Chuck, you're about to play this off. Maybe.)

She simply raises one eyebrow and tilts her head as she looks at him.

He shrugs, tempering the wide-eyed look with a note of contrition. "I figured you were just making it up. Wow, Sarah Walker, saying something real when she totally didn't have to." He allows a smile to break over his face and watches with a bit of fascination as her eyes soften again, even though the rest of her expression doesn't. "My bad."

She shakes her head and smirks at him. "Right. You didn't think at all that maybe I was serious. And you didn't deliberately put me in that dress, across from you, at a wedding."

Chuck presses both his hands, and the one hand of hers he holds, to his heart. "You wound me, fair maiden. Why would I do something like that?" (Except to remind you that I know you, and I want you.)

She finally laughs, and extracts the hand he holds to swat at his shoulder. "Just point me to the dress, Bartowski."

He sends her off with the dress and lets out a deep breath. He refuses, absolutely refuses to think about what happens after Ellie and Devon say "I do". (Last mission, last moments, last glances.) He shakes his head and takes his tux into the fitting room to change and head down to the beach. (Don't. Freak. Out.)

* * *

She returns with the limos and the rest of the wedding party about an hour later. Everything is in place and Chuck stands at the top of a dune, looking down at the scene when she finds him. "Hey," she says simply.

He smiles down at her. "Hey," he responds. He nods to the setup, hands clasped behind him as he slowly rocks on his heels. "Looks good, huh?" (Wouldn't mind walking that aisle with you...)

She smiles and nods in response. "Who would've thought Casey had that in him?"

Chuck laughs lightly, "A man who grows bonsai trees is a man with untapped depths. And if you'd seen him with the Crown Vic that morning..." He lets his voice trail off suggestively. "Let's just say it almost felt like I had HBO on too early in the morning, if you catch my drift."

He can tell the laugh that escapes her surprises even her, and pretty soon they're both laughing nearly uncontrollably.

(I'm going to lose this. I'm really...She's really...She's going to leave me. Soon.) Laughter fading, he fights the urge to growl and shakes his head. (Wow, Casey much?) Some sound might have left his mouth, or rumbled in his throat, because Sarah glances at him sharply. He plasters a smile back on his face and takes her hand again as he looks at her. (That dress is just as perfect as I knew it would be. Sorry, Sarah, had to play dirty there.)

(After all, you taught me to.)

His father starts waving at Chuck, and he and Sarah part ways as they prepare for the ceremony to begin. The clock ticks down in Chuck's head, and he struggles to ignore the feeling of a steel gate coming down on this chapter of his life. (Not going to think about it. Going to enjoy this. I _earned _this.) He looks at Ellie and the smile is genuine, the love is vibrant and he lets himself be swept up with her. (I did it.) He grins, and takes her left arm as his father takes her right one. (I love you, Ellie. You deserve this.) When Ellie smiles at him with tears in her eyes, Chuck feels an unspeakable pride. (I did this. In a day. I set my mind to it, and I did it. I fought for it. I worked for it. And it happened.) With this thought he stands a little straighter. (Maybe I don't give myself enough credit.)

He looks at Sarah over and over during the vows, repeating them in his head for her, willing her to see it in his eyes, willing her to know he's promising himself to her. He looks at Ellie and Devon, and sees the joy radiating from them as they promise themselves to each other.

(I want it. I want to have that in my life.) He looks at Sarah again, willing her to hear his next thought. (I'm not letting you go without a fight.) He hears the cheering as the Drs. Woodcomb are introduced as if from a distance, and claps with a new resolve. (I'm going to fight for you, Sarah Walker.)

He walks away from the receiving line with a smile to those lingering, and finds Morgan to check in on the rest of the day. (Mission Act I complete, Act II, The Reception…)

* * *

**A.N.: **Okay, not so brief on the "e" portion. Sorry. It was originally shorter, but Chuck had a lot to say, apparently. :) And if you don't know what's on HBO in the wee hours, I won't be the one to tell you. You can guess. Hope you're still enjoying this, please feel free to let me know! Please? :)


	10. Chapter 6: Casey Takes a Break

Chapter 6 – Casey Takes a Break

**A.N.:** Disclaimers in Chapter 1. This is a quick little snippet, but Casey wanted to bask in his accomplishments. Too bad the Ring had other plans...

* * *

Casey stalks purposefully through the main room and down the hall to the holding cell Roark is occupying. (They should be getting married right about now). The air of satisfaction wafts around and before him like a red carpet, carrying him through Castle like a king. (Take that, Fulcrum. Can't stop Team Bartowski.)

Casey examines the man sitting in the cell with his head hanging down. (So much for your grand plan, moron. You're gonna be worrying about a whole different type of hard drive for a long time...) He turns to Miles. "Watch him." Miles nods with cold eyes. Casey indulges himself with a small smile as he walks away. (Guess Miles isn't a fan either.)

He walks down the hallway back to the rest of his men. (Few hands of poker, a good cigar...After all that sissy lady feeling planning, gotta make sure my men know I'm still badass. Freaking Bartowskis.) The satisfaction settles into his bones as he sees them sitting at the table waiting for him, and takes his seat, his deck of cards, and his cigar. "All right, ladies, ante up! Texas Hold 'Em. Smoke 'em if you got 'em." Casey shuffles the deck adeptly, dealing hands quickly as his men all settle in. (Now this is living. This **fits.** Much better than those BuyMorons.) He grunts a thank you as one of his men pours him a scotch.

He spares an absent thought for Bartowski and Ellie. Chuck had tried to convince him to come to the wedding, but weddings weren't the Colonel's deal. "Job's not done until we turn Roarke over," he'd said, cutting off the nerd's protestations. "But thanks."

He refuses to consider that the prospect of having to say goodbye for good kept him away.

He tunes back into the game with a puff of his cigar. (No babbling geek, no pining glances, no lady feelings.) He throws in another 100 as he takes another draw of the cigar. (No having to think about losing people who care about you, no missing homemade apple pie…Damn it!) He growls low in his throat at the turn his thoughts had taken and calls the hand.

"Straight flush, losers. Fork those chips over here." (This is the life. Hard living, tough men, gun play. No soft California lifestyle for me.) He smiles a predatory smile around the cigar as he organizes his winnings and deals another hand. "What was that crap you were talking about secondhand smoke? 300." He tosses the chips in.

Casey pauses for a moment as footsteps approach, and isn't surprised when he hears Miles' voice. "Sir, Roark wants to talk to you," he says.

Casey looks at his men, smiles and scoffs. "Watch my cards," he says to Miles, calling over his shoulder, "Watch Barber, he cheats!" He rounds the corner and starts, "I don't give a fu-- " (Not right. Not right.) Casey draws his gun and advances slowly. He moves into the holding cell to see Roark slumped over, and as he checks for a pulse he hears shots fired in the other room.

The zip of the silencer, once, twice, two more in quick succession, and once more.

(Goddamn it.) He leaves Roark's body and carefully proceeds down the hall back to the main room of Castle. (Where are you, you little…) He sees his men slumped on the table, chips scattered. (Damn you, son of a -- ) He breathes deeply in and out, his nostrils flaring like a racehorse's. (I said where the hell are --)

Casey's instincts react an instant before he consciously registers he's not alone, but it's enough that the blunt hit is applied to his shoulder instead of his head. It knocks him to his knees and he takes advantage to make a move for his gun.

"Don't!" Miles warns. "Sorry, sir. We've been through a lot."

(Apparently you've been through more than I thought, you traitor.) "How long have you been Fulcrum?" Casey growls bitterly. (Sure as hell better not have been on my watch.)

"I'm not with Fulcrum," Miles answers.

(You're not with me either, you goddamn disgrace.) "Go ahead and pull the trigger, I don't want to look at your face, you just killed three Marines in cold blood." (And I hope they hunt you down like the dog you are and torture your ass to death.)

"Yeah…But none of them saved my life."

As the rage rises in his throat he has a brief moment of clarity and uncharacteristic fear. (If Miles isn't Fulcrum, it's not over, and no one will catch Bartows--)

Miles' aim is true this time, and Casey's thoughts abruptly go black.

* * *

**A.N.: **Yeah I ended it like that. He blacked out! Can't really have much of a point of view when he's unconscious. ;) Not entirely sure if I'm satisfied with this bit, reviews please?? Fluff will return in the next chapter, for a while anyway, with the reception...


	11. Chapter 7: Chuck Takes a Breath

Chapter 7 – Chuck Takes a Breath

**A.N.:** Disclaimers in Chapter 1. So, how is Mission Act II coming along? Let's see, shall we?

* * *

Chuck draws a deep breath as he walks away from the receiving line, a new purpose grounding his stride. (I am going to fight for you, Sarah Walker. I'm not letting you just walk away without knowing I tried everything I could.) "Morgan!" he calls, catching his friend chatting with his mother, Anna, and Big Mike. Chuck nods to each in turn. "Hey, little buddy, can we chat?" Morgan nods with a smile to the group and accepts Chuck's arm around his shoulder drawing him away.

"What's up, Chuck?" Morgan asks. He snorts. "Sorry, I just…it's the wedding, man, I'm feeling a little old. That's a lame joke, shouldn't have gone there."

(Ah, the classic of elementary school.) Chuck shakes his head, "No worries, I, uh, I know what you mean. It's been a big day for all of us." (Hopefully it'll just get better from here…) He clears his throat. "And thanks again for the church. I mean, I know it didn't work out exactly as planned, but I really appreciate the assist."

The two stop walking and sit companionably on a rocky dune. Morgan looks up at him. "Of course, dude. It was my honor, as your life partner, to return the favor you've so often done me." He quiets. "And sorry about the pyro. I had no idea."

Chuck's lips lift in a half smile. (Ah, Jeffster!) "Yeah, maybe not their brightest move. But it's cool, dude, I think you can see that." He nods towards the effervescent newlyweds, posing for pictures in the gazebo on the beach. "Don't say anything, but you actually might've _saved _Ellie's wedding day."

Morgan's eyes dart to Chuck. "Really?"

Chuck nods. "Really." Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he continues, "That whole church deal, really was Dr. and Mrs. Awesome's idea. This," and Chuck gestures down to the beach, "is what _Ellie_ wanted." He claps a hand on Morgan's shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. "I wanted you to know." (You deserve to know, after taking a hit for me like that.)

Morgan smiles and lets out a breath. "Thanks, man. I feel better about showing up to the reception now that I know Ellie won't kill me."

(Ah, and right where I want you!) "And that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What, Ellie killing me? And by the way, I was totally shocked that Awesome stood by me up there. He must've figured out that you forgot the rings when I..." Morgan trails off.

"When you what?" (I'm guessing I probably owe Awesome a thank you...)

Morgan continues in a rush, "When I told him that I was saving you with Jeffster!'s performance."

(Yep, another debt of gratitude. And he didn't even mention it to me…) "It's okay, Morgan, as you can see, neither Ellie nor Awesome killed me," Chuck reassures with a smile. (Thank goodness Devon is proving me right to trust him…) "Now, about that reception...Caterers?"

"Successfully redirected to Casa Bartowski."

"Bar setup?"

"Cleared the kitchen counters and the table, the caterers will do the rest."

"Lighting?"

"Christmas lights are up. Jeff and Lester owed us."

Chuck laughs. "That would be accurate, to say the least. And the music?"

"Speakers are a go. I took yours, Awesome's, and my own and put them all over the courtyard, and grabbed your iPod. By the way, dude, what is up with 23 different Sarah mixes?"

(Oh crap.) Chuck forces a laugh. "What can I say; my lady is a woman of many facets." (Like gunplay, and throwing knives, and inducement of enemy personnel...) "Thanks for all that prep on the reception," Chuck says, standing up and stretching. "I knew I could count on you. It's going to be…"

He and Morgan finish the sentence together. "…_awesome._" Chuck smiles and reaches a hand down to help Morgan up. "You better get back to _your _lady, there, bud, she looks like she misses you." He nods down to the shore where Anna stands alone, staring out at the ocean. (And hopefully, I'll have someone who misses me like that too…Well, maybe not misses me, I do want us to be together, so I wouldn't want her to miss me, I'd just-)

"Chuck? Dude, you with me?" Morgan's voice disrupts his rambling train of thought.

"Oh! Sorry, uh, sorry, kind of wandered off there," Chuck replies, focusing on his friend. (Get a grip, Bartowski.) "What was that you said?"

Morgan laughs. "I said I'll see you back at the house." He smiles contentedly. "Glad to know some things haven't changed." He looks down at Anna and gets a far off look in his eye. "Even if some things really have."

Chuck drapes his arm around Morgan's shoulder as they head back towards the beach. "Sometimes, a change is exactly what we need." (I know I do. And hopefully Sarah does too…) He gently pushes Morgan in Anna's direction as he heads back to the limos.

***

(She's coming to the reception. That's a start. I can at least talk to her.) Chuck stands in front of the mirror, trying to unknot his tie. (Why is this so difficult? Exhaustion? Nerves?) He can hear the music from outside, the clinking of glassware and the happy chattering murmur of voices. (We actually pulled it off.) He manages to extract himself from the offending neckwear and unbuttons the top button of his shirt with a sigh of relief. (Okay...now what?)

He examines himself in the full length mirror. (You look as good as you're gonna get, Chuck.) He warms up with the patented Bartowski eyebrow dance, tries on the double guns, and shoots his reflection in the mirror. He shares a self-deprecating smile with his mirrorself. (Yeah, no Bryce Larkin moves, but hopefully I won't need them.) He brushes himself off, straightens his boutonniere and exits the bedroom to enter the joyful chaos that is the reception.

* * *

A.N.: Yeah, it's gonna be quite a few semi-fluffy chapters for the reception. :) Enjoy!


	12. Chapter 8: Sarah Takes a Breath

Chapter 8 – Sarah Takes a Breath

**A.N.:** Disclaimers in Chapter 1. How is Sarah doing as a bridesmaid?

Just wanted to take a minute to thank my faithful reviewers for their kindness and their support. It's always gratifying to know you have an audience, and even more so when they're just so…awesome. ;) We're closing in on the end of the episode, but trust me, a lot can happen between now and then. I'm thinking about four more full chapters, and three or four segments to the epilogue. :) Thanks again, and enjoy…

* * *

Sarah smiles and shakes hands with the parade of well-wishers in the receiving line, heaving a sigh of relief as the last guests disburse. (If I had to smile or shake hands for another minute, I might have had to kill someone.) She catches sight of Chuck turning away to approach Morgan and sighs again. (Damn it. I have to go with the bridesmaids...)

On cue, Bridesmaid #1 (Marcy?) calls after her. "Sarah, come on!"

(Damn it.) "Coming!" She hikes up the dress to slog through the sand to the waiting limo. (And here we go...) She enters with a smile and settles in on the sideways facing seat, kicking off her shoes as the other women had. (Oh, that feels so good...) She wiggles her toes in gratitude and does a couple of neck rolls.

"Limbering up for the bouquet?" teases #2 (Annie?). "Got plans for Chuckles?"

Sarah fights off the low growl, and summons a smile instead. "You mean Chuck?"

"Oh, whatever, it's just a nickname," she giggles in response.

#3 (April, I'm pretty sure of that one) obviously has more sense than #2 and jumps in. "Annie is just teasing, Sarah. We were just wondering, that's all." It's said with a smile, helping Sarah to stand down a bit.

(These are Ellie's friends, Walker. You can't kill them. And look at you, addressing yourself as Walker. Good thing this is you in your own head...) She smiles sheepishly. (That ought to help.) "Well, it's...complicated." (Oh, how original. At least when they talk to Ellie, it'll be a consistent answer.)

April looks at her questioningly. "Really? Because the looks you two were giving each other didn't seem complicated at all..." She smiles at Sarah again as Marcy and Annie giggle and nod.

Sarah takes a deep breath and registers, to her alarm, (I'm blushing! Damn it, Walker! You do not _blush!)_

The laughter of the other bridesmaids brings Sarah back to herself even as it confirms her fear. (Well, at least they aren't-)

"Blushing isn't an answer!" Annie adds in a singsongy voice, "Chuck and Sarah, sitting in a tree..."

The other two join her, serenading Sarah through their laughter. Her blush obviously grows as they cackle with laughter barely through the first verse. "Wow, you've got it _bad," _Marcy says knowingly_._

(You have _no idea._) Sarah smiles and ducks her head to hide the blush, which somehow satisfies them.

"Anyway, did you see Devon's frat brothers? Break me off a piece of, hell, _any _of them!" laughs Annie. The other bridesmaids are happy to discuss the merits of the groomsmen, leaving Sarah to her thoughts.

(A little too late for regrets there, Walker, don't you think?) She leans her head back and notices in her periphery an open bottle of champagne. (Ah...a little bubbly goes a long way with these girls, I'm guessing.) She examines them more assessingly. (Yeah, it all fits their behavior. Well, that's helpful.) She snags a glass and the bottle and helps herself, barely restraining herself from gulping the contents of her flute down like a shot.

(Can I really do this? Am I ready for life without the CIA?) She looks at the bridesmaids, chatting cheerfully about absolutely nothing more serious than reality TV. (Essentially more than ten years of your life spent with the agency, and you're throwing it away for a computer geek?) Her brows furrow as she realizes the voice of doubt sounds alarmingly like her own.

(No, _not_ just a computer geek, and it's _nerd_, actually.) She sips slowly and closes her eyes. (It's Chuck, the unlikely hero, the guy who remembers to say no olives every single time when I didn't even tell him once, the only guy I've ever known who can make me want him by making me laugh.) She doesn't register the silence in the limo immediately, but her eyes pop open as soon as she does. (Damn it!)

All three bridesmaids are looking at her with knowing smiles.

"You've got to be thinking about Chuck," teases April, "because your smile puts the Cheshire cat to shame."

(Oh crap. Oh crap? Seriously? Your internal monologue even sounds like Chuck!) She shakes her head slowly. (If ever there was a moment...it's what they want to hear anyway...) "Okay, fine! I'm hopelessly head over heels."

(Holy crap you just said that out loud!)

Sarah takes a deep shaky breath. (Whoa. That felt…good.) This time she _does _gulp down the champagne.

(But you still need to say it to the one who needs to hear it.)

Right on cue again, the limo arrives at Casa Bartowski. (There's really no turning back once you tell him, you know...)

At that thought, Sarah steps out of the limo with another Cheshire cat smile. (In the words of the groom..._awesome.)_

She walks into the courtyard and slowly grinds to a halt. (Wow.) White Christmas lights criss-cross the courtyard, paper lanterns hanging at various intervals between. (It looks like a fairy tale…Oh, Chuck…) Smooth jazz seems to drift in from all directions as people mingle with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Sarah forgets all about the cover, the CIA, and the complications as she walks further into the casual wonderland Chuck arranged.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" comes a voice from the shadows on her right.

(Damn it! You totally lost yourself right there.) She turns and schools her features into a smile as she watches Stephen Bartowski approach. "Hi, I didn't see you there."

"I know," he replies with a smile. He hands her a champagne flute and clinks his own lightly against it before he sips. "That was the point."

(Okay…?) "Did you enjoy the ceremony?" she asks, sipping from her own in return.

"Which, the first one, or the second?" He laughs. "The second one was definitely better than the first, I'm getting kind of tired of the intrigue, if you'll allow an old man his faults."

(Doing a bit of digging, Orion?) Sarah raises an eyebrow as she replies, "And why would you say it's a fault?"

"Oh, come now, Sarah, you're," he pauses to glance around the courtyard and assure himself no one is listening, "an agent, intrigue is your bread and butter. Or cereal and milk, in the case of my Charles. It's what you thrive on."

(Are you goading me or do you still not trust me?) She smiles tightly, "Things can change, people change constantly."

"Hmm, some, certainly, but then there are the ones who are just too pure for their own good," he replies, his eyes drifting towards the Morgan Door. "There are some who believe so wholeheartedly in the goodness of the world, and of people, that they can blind themselves to the bad. To the things…and people…who would hurt them." He sips again, smiling blandly.

(If you weren't Chuck's father, I swear…) "And then there are the people who, even seeing the worst parts of humanity, still believe in the best of humanity. They're the best of all of us." Sarah meets Stephen's gaze steadily. (Satisfied?)

He relaxes visibly and smiles genuinely. "That they are, my dear. And thank you for that reminder." He clinks his glass against hers again, "Cheers, Sarah."

(Thank goodness.) She lets her shoulders drop as she too relaxes. "Cheers, to the best of us." She finishes her champagne as she hears a car door slam, followed by familiar voices. Stephen pulls her back with him into the shadows as Chuck walks by, scanning the courtyard as he enters the apartment.

(Huh?) "Um, I'm sorry, is there some reason you pulled me back here?"

"Oh, that's obvious, Sarah," Stephen says, smoothly exchanging their now empty champagne glasses for full ones. "It's going to take a few more of these to get your guard down enough for you to not hurt my son."

(What?!) She frowns and absently gulps her champagne.

As though hearing the question, he continues. "You haven't completely made your mind up yet, or you would've contacted Beckman."

(What?!) "Excuse me?" she sputters. (How the hell would you...Orion, of course. Obviously. Damn it.)

He smiles as he waits for her to to catch up, and seeing the comprehension, continues again. "I'm just getting you to think as a person, not an agent, so you can figure it out." He clinks his glass against hers yet again, and walks away.

(Damn perceptive Bartowski men.) She drains her glass.

* * *

**A.N.**: The joy of having just enough PapaB in the show is we can all have a little fun with his real personality. Mine's kind of a troublemaker, but someone has to kick Sarah in the ass a little, right? ;) No? I know how you can weigh in -- review! :)


	13. Chapter 9: A Starry Interlude

**Chapter 9 – A Starry Interlude**

**A.N.:** Disclaimers in Chapter 1. PapaB time. :)

* * *

(Despite my best intentions, my son is a spy.) Stephen Bartowski sighs and shakes his head. (Should have known it would happen anyway. Can't trust that Larkin worth anything.)

He takes a champagne flute from the tray of a passing server and can't help but smile. (But Charles is still aces.) The courtyard is strewn with twinkling white Christmas lights, hanging paper lanterns, and the sounds of glasses and silverware being set. The reception is starting in a few minutes, so he retreats from the bustle of the caterers. (They both are aces, no thanks to me.) He sighs and contemplates his children as he sips in the shadows.

(Dr. Eleanor Woodcomb. What a life my Eleanor has made for herself, with this hopelessly devoted young man.) At the thought, the bride and groom arrive. Stephen watches as Eleanor and Devon walk slowly in, hand in hand. Devon looks down at Eleanor in that moment, and Stephen smiles. (Such love, when we didn't model it for them. Thank goodness.) He can tell they knew nothing of Charles' plan for the reception from the wonder on their faces. (Aces, Charles...aces.)

Another car pulls up to the curb, and laughter spills out as the chauffeur opens the door. (Ah, the bridesmaids. And there is one in particular I need to have a chat with...) Spying another tray of champagne going by, he commandeers a second glass, and silently observes Charles' CIA handler.

(I do believe I may have misjudged her.) She walks forward with a look on her face reminiscent of a small child at Christmas, awed and joyful and disbelieving. As her face softened, Stephen's resolved hardened. (One way or another, I am going to get a read on you, Agent Walker.)

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he says, taking some satisfaction at the surprise that flits across her face. (And I can see _you_ know it's Charles' doing.)

"Hi, I didn't see you there," she says, with an admirable approximation of a smile.

(A little ashamed to be caught off guard, I think?) "I know," Stephen replies with a forced smile of his own. (Time to disarm and confuse.) He hands her a champagne flute and clinks his own lightly against it before he sips. "That was the point." (Because I am going to keep you off your quite formidable toes as much as I can.)

"Did you enjoy the ceremony?" she asks, sipping from her own in return.

(Small talk, how unusual for the CIA. And yet, an opportunity...) "Which, the first one, or the second?" He laughs. (And sorry for the first one, Eleanor...) "The second one was definitely better than the first." (And let the games begin.) He adds, "I'm getting kind of tired of the intrigue, if you'll allow an old man his faults."

"And why would you say it's a fault?" she replies smoothly.

(Ah, a challenge. This should be entertaining.) "Oh, come now, Sarah, you're," he pauses to glance around the courtyard and assure himself no one is listening, "an agent, intrigue is your bread and butter. Or cereal and milk, in the case of my Charles. It's what you thrive on." (It's what's going to break my son's heart.)

He can tell she's discomfited as she smiles with strain. To her credit, her reply is appropriately innocuous. "Things can change, people change constantly."

(Fine, you know what I'm about. Point to you.) "Hmm, some, certainly, but then there are the ones who are just too pure for their own good," he replies, his eyes drifting towards the Morgan Door. (And what a miracle it is, that my Charles is such a man.) Aloud he adds, "There are some who believe so wholeheartedly in the goodness of the world, and of people, that they can blind themselves to the bad. To the things...and people...who would hurt them." (Which much to my chagrin includes me. And which is why I have to know where you stand.)

He watches her struggle internally with a response, only the barest twitching at her temples and tightening in her jaw giving her away.

"And then there are the people who, even seeing the worst parts of humanity, still believe in the best of humanity," she answers evenly. "They're the best of us."

Stephen can see the sincerity in her eyes. (And now I know what you told Larkin is true. You're not leaving with him.) He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and lowers his shoulders. (Now to help you get the rest of the way there...) He turns the Bartowski smile on her. "That they are, my dear. And thank you for that reminder." He clinks his glass against hers again, "Cheers, Sarah," deliberately using her first name.

"Cheers, to the best of us," she responds.

Stephen watches her finish her champagne as he sips at his. A car door slams, and familiar voices reach them in the courtyard. (Not yet...) He takes her arm and gently but firmly pulls her back with him into the shadows as Chuck walks by. (Sorry, Charles.) He watches his son scan the courtyard and enter the apartment.

Sarah is obviously perplexed, and asks, "Um, I'm sorry, is there some reason you pulled me back here?"

(And now to give her food for thought...) "Oh, that's obvious, Sarah," he answers, smoothly exchanging their now empty champagne glasses for full ones. "It's going to take a few more of these to get your guard down enough for you to not hurt my son."

Stephen can tell she's floored as she frowns and absently gulps her champagne. (Shaken from your impeccable manners, I see I've made an impact.) He continues. "You haven't completely made your mind up yet, or you would've contacted Beckman." (And thanks to the tap I have on all your surveillance, I've been privy to all your communications, or lack thereof, today.)

"Excuse me?" she asks disbelievingly. He waits the moment it takes for understanding to dawn on her.

"I'm just getting you to think as a person, not an agent, so you can figure it out." He clinks his glass against hers yet again, and walks away. (It's now all up to you.) He watches with a small smile as she drains her glass. (For Charles' sake, I hope you make the right decision.)

***

He keeps Sarah by his side or in his sights all night. (If she slips away, I want to be prepared.) He watches her face when she thinks no one is watching, watches the smiles and laughter fade as she's left alone. It's a struggle for her, he can tell, and it's a struggle he's achingly familiar with. (The needs of the job versus the needs of those you love. I chose to leave to protect them, and cursed myself for doing it every night. Love is hard, Sarah, but so is life.) As the reception wears on, he takes the chance and contacts Bryce. (I'm going to do my damndest to give you a clear road, Charles. I just hope you're not walking it alone.)

He sees Larkin walk in and allows himself a measure of satisfaction as Larkin spots Charles and Sarah dancing. (She's not yours any more, Larkin, it's her decision to make. You can see as well as I what her answer should be.)

"Mr. Bartowski," Bryce greets quietly. "Or is this an Orion conversation?"

"Bit of both," Stephen replies with a small smile. He lets out a bitter chuckle. "I reconfigured the Cube for you under two conditions: You stop looking for me, and you leave my son alone." (And I know you've done neither of those things. Nor do you likely intend to.)

"We asked Chuck to be on my team, he said no," Larkin responds quickly.

(Exactly. Yet you put Sarah in charge of the team. If I know my Charles, that's a surefire way to insure his continued interest.)

Larkin glances at the couple in the courtyard once more. "Goodbye, Orion," he tosses off as he starts to walk away.

(Not so fast.) Stephen takes a deep drink of the scotch and soda in his hand and pulls Larkin back. "You made changes – to the Intersect, to my initial design. The data architecture is different. What does this new computer do?"

Larkin's answer is not reassuring. "You don't want to know," he says with a shake of his head.

"Agent Larkin, it's time to go," comes a voice behind them.

Stephen turns to look for the source, and winces as a headache blooms full grown.

_Three half buried cars_

_A retinal scan_

_File photo in uniform_

_Standardization/Evaluation Records, marked AWOL_

_A Personnel Action Request_

_Presumed dead stamped in red at the top of the form_

Each picture is accompanied by a merciless spike of pain through his skull. (Damn it.) He comes back to awareness slightly slumped against the wall, thankfully scotch still in hand. (Damn it, damn it, damn it. Sorry, Charles.) The pain throbs through his brain and he drains the glass as he turns to ruin his son's night.

"Chuck, Chuck!" he huffs as he makes it to the couple's side. (Remember your cover, Orion. Stephen Bartowski, bumbling idiot.) "The agent, the agent who came for Bryce," he stammers, "he isn't a CIA agent. He's supposed to be dead."

Chuck looks at him skeptically. "Dad, how could you possibly know that?"

(Confession time. Damn it, Charles, I'm so sorry.) He sighs, winces and struggles visibly before answering. "Screw it...I – I have an Intersect in _my _head." Chuck's eyes widen in horror as Sarah looks on in shock. (I'm so, so sorry, Charles...) "I tested the computer on myself, I was young and stupid, but the intel was good." (And I got the same upgrades I gave you, Charles.) "Th-That man isn't CIA."

Chuck's breath comes audibly faster as the wheels turn in his head. "Bryce," Chuck panics. "Bryce is getting the upload _tonight._"

"They're going to kill him. They'll download the Intersect into their team instead." (Damn it, _damn it!_ I tried to clear the path and we're in deeper than ever...)

"Well, if they know about Bryce, they know about Casey," Sarah says worriedly. Chuck turns to look at her, concern all over his face. She meets his gaze wordlessly for a heartbeat, and quickly walks away.

"Sarah..." Chuck starts as he moves to follow her, but Stephen holds an arm out to delay him.

"Let her go, son, you've done your part." (You're free, and you're going to stay that way.)

"No, I _have _to go," Chuck protests.

"No, no _you_ don't," Stephen says with a frown, shaking his head. (I challenged the CIA and the NSA to insure that you don't ever have to again.) "You're not a spy."

"Dad..." Chuck looks off in the direction Sarah exited, and takes loud, panicky breathes before continuing. "I _love_ her," he declares firmly.

Orion looks his son in the eyes as his thought from earlier repeats itself. (Despite my best intentions, my son is a spy.) He reads the resolve in his son's demeanor. (Charles. I tried so hard to spare you this life. Seems like it's in our blood.)

His decision made, Orion looks around to insure no prying eyes are watching as he maneuvers his hand under his sleeve. "I can't follow you, son, but take this." He hands Chuck his wrist computer. He can see the comprehension on Chuck's face as Chuck looks down at his father's gift. (If I can't be with you to protect you, I will do my damndest to give you the means to protect yourself.)

Chuck looks off across the courtyard again, this time with purpose and determination. "Thank you," he breathes. There's a hitch to his voice, and a look to his face that speaks to the words that escape him.

"Be safe, Charles," Orion smiles at his son.

"Thank you," Chuck breathes again as he follows the path Sarah had taken.

Orion keeps the smile firmly in place as he watches Chuck leave. (Charles, Eleanor, I tried, I truly did. Now is just not the time for us. I love you both.) He finds his daughter surrounded by well-wishers, who thankfully let him through.

"Eleanor, Devon, I'm so proud and happy for you both, but I, I guess it's just a bit much for me right now – I hope you don't mind if I retire for the evening."

Eleanor smiles easily at him, "Of course not, Dad, we'll see you in the morning." She lays a kiss on his cheek that he savors, and Devon heartily shakes his hand.

(I'm so sorry.) Looking at them one last time, Orion takes his leave.

* * *

**A.N.**: So? Thoughts? It's interesting writing a character we know so little about, I took the approach that PapaB is much more than he seems. And yes, the use of Stephen versus Orion is significant. I think of it as Chuck versus Charles Carmichael, the two identities of the Bartowski men. Let me know what you think! Please??


	14. Chapter 10: Sarah's Reflections on Love

**Chapter 10** – Sarah's Reflections on Love

**A.N.**: Disclaimer in Chapter 1, I still don't own them. But I sure enjoy trying to get in their heads. Didn't Sarah ever learn love conquers all?

* * *

(Bartowski men are just hazardous to my health.) Sarah drains her umpteenth drink of the night and sighs to herself, nodding and smiling at Big Mike and Morgan's mother as they chatter with Chuck's dad. (I'm surprised Morgan's mom hasn't decked him yet.) The thought brings a genuine smile as she recalls Bolonia's tirade in Spanish when she'd first spotted Stephen Bartowski that morning. (I should try to remember those curse words, there were a few she used that even I don't know...)

It seems Bolonia is slightly tipsy since she finally begins to lecture Stephen, who takes it with humor and grace. (But who wouldn't want to keep Chuck and Ellie from being hurt? Who could love them without resenting the father who abandoned them?)

Sarah laughs as Big Mike changes the subject quickly and laments the loss of his Nerd Herd leader, her thoughts mirroring his. (How could anyone ever want to lose him?) She spots him talking with Morgan, and refocuses on the conversation around her. (Get a grip, Walker, Orion is right – are you here or are you gone?)

"Sarah?" comes the question from the elder Bartowski.

(Damn it.) She shakes her head with an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, I was off somewhere in my head, you were saying?"

The three of them laugh indulgently at her as Bolonia answers. "Mija, why are you here with us when he's over there?"

(God, I'm transparent tonight.) Sarah laughs lightly, "Oh, I can't monopolize the attention of the best man and brother of the bride, we'll have our time. Especially since I won't be competing with Call of Duty as much! How do you both feel about Morgan and Hawaii?" (And subject changed. Focus, Walker!)

Bolonia starts to expound on exactly what she thinks as Big Mike chimes in with words of support. (No doubt motivated by his own wish for privacy...) She follows the conversation for a bit but as she catches Stephen's searching look, she smiles tightly. (Quit pushing, Orion, this is hard for me...) She interrupts, "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, but I need to excuse myself," holding up her empty glass, "I'll be back in a bit."

(Chicken.) She closes her eyes at her own weakness and retreats into the apartment. She heads for the bathroom, only to see a line down the hallway. (Crap.) With a soft sigh of defeat, she heads back through the apartment to Chuck's bedroom. Thankfully no one is nearby and she slips in quietly, shutting the door behind her.

She stares at the television, the lights coming in through the courtyard lending a surreal candlelit look to the room. (I could call Beckman right now. Just tell her that I'm through, that I'm not going anywhere.) Her hand inches towards the remote, but somehow she can't pick it up. (Damn it.)

She looks around the bedroom at the posters and pictures that surround her, all so typically Chuck. Her eyes fall on a picture she hadn't noticed before. On a shelf behind pictures of Chuck with Ellie, Chuck with her, Chuck with Morgan, is a picture of Chuck with Bryce.

She carefully extracts it and sits on the bed to look at it. (Must be Stanford – they're both so young and innocent.) She absently strokes a finger down Chuck's face. (And he still is, somehow. Bryce is so jaded and cynical, and Chuck...he's just...good. Deep down at the core of him, a good man.) Her eyes change focus from the men in the picture to her hands holding it. (And I'm...not. God, I am not a good person, I haven't been in a long time. But I want to be, he makes me want to be a good person. He makes me want to be whole.)

She replaces the picture on the shelf and instead takes down the re-created Comic-Con picture, smiling genuinely. (Over ten years of my life as an agent, and all I want to do now is make him smile. Let Bryce worry about saving the world, Beckman can find someone else to run the Intersect Project. I just want to be a real girl...)

Returning the two of them to their rightful place on the shelf, she looks down at her hands again and sighs. (What if he doesn't want me? What if he finds out who I really am and is horrified? I've...I've killed, over and over, killed and maimed, almost tortured. I've seduced so many people, threatened so many people...) She sighs and sits heavily on the bed. (I'm not a good person, not like Chuck. I don't know if I can ever be as good as he is.) She strokes his pillow softly, thinking of the first night she slept over, and of the last night in the motel. (God, I want to try, though. I really want to try.)

She looks up at the Tron poster on the wall and bites her lip. (Forgive me?) She takes it down from the wall and flips it over. (Damn it, Chuck, if anyone else knew you did this...) She skims over the notes he's taken, the connections he's made, and can't help but be proud. (Yeah, not cut out to be an analyst, my ass...) She finds her own section of the chart and her brow furrows with surprise and confusion. (No line between me and Bryce, first off. And he heard me tell him my middle name? No wonder he wouldn't leave me alone about how I felt, damn it. Do we have a chance...God, how I must have messed with your head...) But her confusion melts away when she sees the notation to the left of her picture. "Extra pickles no olives," she whispers in the darkness. "Oh, Chuck..." She replaces the poster on the wall and squares her shoulders. (Time to put up or shut up, Walker.) She exits through the Morgan Door to find him, scanning the courtyard and seeing him...nowhere. (Damn it.) She sighs aloud and swipes a glass of champagne from a passing server as she retreats to lean against an archway waiting for him to reappear. (Here I am, all resolved and determined, and he's nowhere to be found. Here's hoping I don't lose my nerve...) She sips absently, killing time, watching as other happy couples dance and flirt and love. (I want that. Damn it, I want that, Chuck. Where are you?) She finishes the glass and sets it down, determined to wait.

And wait she does. It feels like forever before she feels a familiar tingle of awareness and hears him take a deep breath. Glancing behind her, she fights a smile as she sees Chuck. He, on the other hand, sighs and swallows hard as he looks at her. She feels the sorrow radiating from him as her stomach begins a slow roll, nerves creeping over her. (Oh God, this is it...) She licks her lips as she hears him speak.

"Where's Bryce?" he asks.

(Definitely not the opening volley I expected...) "Gone," she says with a quiet smile. "They're uploading him with the new computer tonight." (Why can't I just tell you?)

She stubbornly tries to motivate her traitorous tongue, and in the silence, Chuck adds with a forced smile, "Off to save the world...? I guess both of you are."

(Oh, Chuck...Why can't I just say it?) She recognizes the song that's playing as she looks over her shoulder at him with a smile. "You want to dance?" (You want to hold me close and break down all my defenses so I don't have to?)

The surprise on his face is evident as he answers, "You know I do."

(That smile. Thank you for smiling that smile at me, Chuck.) She begins formulating words in her head as he takes her arm and leads them to the floor.

He pulls her in close and with his cheek pressed to hers, starts to sway gently. She breathes a little deeper, trying to capture his scent, the feel of his arms around her. (Oh, Chuck...Damn it, Sarah, say something.) She absorbs the warmth of his body, trying to draw strength to take a leap of faith. (If there's anyone who can help me to take a leap, it's Chuck...) Blind Pilot plays on, Three Rounds and a Sound saying things she hadn't yet summoned the words for.

_And the seasons  
Will change us new  
Be the best I've known  
and you know me  
I could not be stuck on you  
If it were true_

I was sleeping  
My eyes were dark  
Til you woke me  
And told me that opening  
is just the start  
it was

He breaks the spell and speaks. "You belong out there, saving the world. I'm just...I'm just not that guy," he confesses sadly.

(Oh, Chuck, you underestimate yourself so much...) "How many times do you have to be a hero to realize that you _are _that guy?" (I can't stand for you to sell yourself short.)

"I want more, Sarah," he replies, regret coloring his voice. "I want a life. I want a real life."

They've slowly stopped dancing and she knows the moment is here, and her decision is so clear. (Why did I ever doubt what I wanted?) He releases her and she looks at him with a smile, her heart in her eyes. "Chuck, I don't want to save the world, I want..."

"Chuck, Chuck!" The elder Bartowski stumbles towards them, frantically calling for Chuck's attention.

(Damn it, now? After you've been after me all night?)

"The agent, the agent who came for Bryce," he continues, "he isn't a CIA agent. He's supposed to be dead."

(Oh, no...)

Chuck asks the question for her. "Dad, how could you possibly know that?"

Sarah can see she won't like the answer as Orion visibly argues with himself. "Screw it...I – I have an Intersect in _my _head."

(Oh, goddamn it!) She watches Chuck's eyes widen in horror and shock as his father continues explaining. "I tested the computer on myself, I was young and stupid, but the intel was good. Th-That man isn't CIA."

Chuck's breathing speeds up in panic as he realizes, "Bryce. Bryce is getting the upload _tonight._"

"They're going to kill him. They'll download the Intersect into their team instead."

(I can't believe this...) "Well, if they know about Bryce, they know about Casey," she says worriedly. Chuck turns to look at her and she meets his gaze for a heartbeat. (Oh God, Chuck, if only he were a minute later...I wish I...Damn it, I have to go.) She turns and quickly walks away.

(Whoever the hell is behind this, I'm going to kill you all.)

* * *

**A.N.**: So close!! Yet, so far. Ain't that the story of Charah? Hope you're enjoying this, as we're sort of nearing the end. The rest of the chapters seem like dance steps to me – long, long, quick, quick, long, long. I'm going to try very hard to get through Chuck's view on the reception, and maybe give Bryce his due, though I'm still debating the ordering. Opinions welcome! Reviews even more welcome. :)


	15. Chapter 11: Chuck's Reflections on Love

**Chapter 11 – Chuck**'**s Reflections on Love**

**A.N.**: Disclaimer in Chapter 1. Chuck makes some big decisions. We're backtracking, my apologies, but for the integrity of the story, we needed to skip around a bit. Chuck has just gotten back from the ceremony and is first stepping out to join the reception.

* * *

Chuck leaves the apartment and looks around in satisfaction. (Perfect. Romantic, happy, and awesome, of course.) Ellie approaches with a wide smile. "Hi," she says quietly. "Thank you."

Chuck feigns modesty to cover his surfeit of pride. "For what?"

"For what? For, for all of this! For my wedding gift! This is...I don't know how you did all this," Ellie replies, her eyes shining.

(A highly trained team of badass Marine Corps troops, an unparalleled CIA operative, and my loyal best friend.) "Uh, well, I can't exactly take all the credit."

"Well, first the beach, and now this...I don't know," she smiles and shakes her head slightly. "You're pretty amazing, little brother. Sometimes I think you have superpowers."

He laughs. "I _wish_!" he answers honestly. (If I did, I could be with Sarah without her having to give up a thing...)

"I _know_," Ellie teases. Devon joins her, adding his compliments to hers.

"Chuck, man, you saved the day. Looks like you're the big hero." Devon smiles at him proudly, holding his gaze meaningfully. "Thanks, bro," he adds.

(Captain Awesome giving me props. God, it's good to have someone I love know what I did. Life is pretty darned good.) "Well, now I really _am_ your bro!" Chuck jokes.

"Yes, you are," Devon laughs. Ellie touches Chuck's arm affectionately before she and Devon return to their mingling.

(Now to tend to my other bro...) He spots Morgan standing by himself, admiring his earlier handiwork.

Clapping his hand on Morgan's shoulder, Chuck laments, "I can't believe you're actually _leaving_ me..." (When it rains, it pours, huh? My entire life is changing all at once.)

"All right, don't, Chuck, I'll cry." Morgan holds up a hand to fend off the thought as he moves through the crowd.

"We don't want that now, do we..." Chuck answers with a laugh. ('Cause damned if I don't know that I wouldn't cry myself.) "I'm happy for you, buddy. I think you are going to be the greatest hibachi chef in the world."

Morgan shakes his hanging head. "I don't know, man. This whole...'making your dreams come true' thing is hard. And the bigger the dream, the harder it gets. You know, on one side, you know, the girl you love..."

Chuck's gaze automatically scans to find Sarah, smiling, across the courtyard, as Morgan continues.

"And then on the other, life as you know it. It's just, you know, friends and family, and job you can't stand. I don't know, man. I should just go with Anna, right? But then I, uh...I'm overthinking this, aren't I?"

(Focus, Chuck!) "Yeah, yeah, you are." Chuck's mind drifts to his own dream girl, conveniently located across the courtyard. "Go with your heart, buddy. Our brains only screw things up." (I know mine does. In multiple ways.)

He's swept up into the whirl of the reception, surrounded by well-wishers, and a fair number of insinuations about whether he would be next. (You have no idea how much I hope that's the case...) He catches glimpses of Sarah, usually with his father, strangely enough. (Or maybe not so strangely, seeing as how he's the architect of the Intersect. Oh crap -- is he going to be on the project with Sarah?)

"...so like I said, mijo, we need to support Morgan, okay? I know you always do but..." Bolonia trails off. "I'm just worried about him."

Chuck smiles at Morgan's mom. "Oh, of course! This is his dream. I mean," he lowers his voice to a stage whisper, "this is the first time in a long time Morgan's been excited about something that didn't involve a controller or an internet connection!" He gives Bolonia a quick squeeze, prompting a giggle.

"You better not be putting the moves on my woman, Bartowski. I may not be your boss but I can still whup your ass!" Big Mike laughs, clapping a hand on Chuck's shoulder.

Chuck removes his arm from Bolonia's shoulders and holds both hands aloft. "I surrender!" he says with an answering laugh. "She's all yours, Big Mike."

Both Bolonia and Big Mike smile indulgently at Chuck. "Thanks, Bartowski," Big Mike says soberly. "I would've blown that hellhole up if it wasn't for you. I may have to quit myself, without you there to wrangle the animals."

"Believe me when I say..._quit_," Chuck deadpans. (One of the best things about having the Intersect gone, is the Buy More is too...)

Big Mike guffaws. "Yeah, I may just."

Chuck nods his approval and removes himself from their company. Seeing Anna standing alone, he grabs two champagne flutes and approaches.

"Aloha," he intones from behind her.

Anna whirls around, eyes narrowed. "Sneaking up on me, Chuckles?"

He smiles and holds out a champagne flute. "Yup," he replies as she takes it from his hand. "Gonna be harder to sneak from here to Hawaii, so I figure I should get my stealthy surprise moves out of my system." He clinks glasses with her. (Oooookay, not taking a drink...?) "Um, Anna, are you okay?"

"How can he ask me to give up everything?" she blurts out. "I mean, not like it's that great here but...we're going to be starting from scratch out there. We'll have no one else but each other!"

(Ouch. Close to home much?) Aloud he merely asks, "But I thought you were the one pushing him on?"

"Well, yeah, but I didn't really think about it being Hawaii, it was just...I don't know...the dream of it all?"

(Okay, punch to gut. Damn it, Chuck, how can you ask Sarah to do that? Damn it, damn it, damn it...)

"Chuckles!"

(Whoops. You do not woolgather when speaking with the Wu.) "Sorry, Anna. Listen, Morgan _loves you_. He wants to be a better person _with you_. He wants to build a new life in Hawaii _with you_. If that's not where you're at, you gotta tell him, sooner rather than later. Because I know my lil buddy, and when we were talking earlier, he was scared too...but I told him to follow his heart, and that's _you_. If you aren't ready to leave, just tell him. I promise, it's Morgan -- he'll listen."

Anna drains the flute in her hand and shoves it into Chuck's chest. "Thanks, Chuckles. Great party." She walks away without another look.

(Well that went well. I tell Morgan to leap and Anna gets cold feet. Ugh.) He drinks his champagne and scans the crowd absently, seeing Sarah talking to Devon and Ellie. (Oh crap. She might be...leaving.) His breathing speeds up to the point of near-hyperventilation and he drains his flute. (No, she wouldn't do that without warning. Get a grip, Chuck.) He closes his eyes with a sigh, and the noise of the reception seems to magnify. (Okay, time for a breather.) He walks back into the apartment, aiming for the bathroom. (Crap.) The line wraps through the living room. (Guess everyone is well and lubricated...) He smiles and nods to friends and strangers as he heads for the refuge of his bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he leans against it and runs his hands through his hair.

(You are about to ask the most gorgeous, intelligent, lethal, and amazing woman you will ever meet in your lifetime to give up the life of international mystery and glamour she's had for _ten years. _You sure about this?)

He walks over to the bed and sits on the edge, flopping backwards heavily. (What happened to not letting her go without a fight?) He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, hoping for answers or signs.

(To recap: one Caucasian female currently known as Sarah Walker is expected to sever all ties and return to the CIA to head one Intersect Project with one Bryce Larkin, spy and seducer extraordinaire. In the alternative, King Nerd Chuck Bartowski wants her to stay and live a regular life.) He moans in frustration into the darkness. (Who am I kidding?) He sits back up and looks outside, watching the lights twinkle and catching glimpses of friends and loved ones enjoying themselves. (I'm not kidding anyone. I just need to at least ask. I know she belongs out there, kicking ass and taking names. But I want to at least offer her the chance to share a real life with me, if she wants to. After my asinine reaction this afternoon, I have to. I care too much not to.) He stands then, resolved to give Sarah a choice at least. As he crosses the room to exit through the Morgan Door, his nose twitches slightly.

(Huh. I could swear I smell Sarah's perfume...)

***

He spots Sarah leaning against an arch in the courtyard and makes his approach. (Either I'm getting better at this or she's totally distracted. And beautiful. And funny, even though she swears she isn't. And so smart. How could anyone not love her?) He looks around and takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Where's Bryce?" he asks. (I figured for sure he'd be here somewhere, putting the moves on you again.)

She turns to him briefly and turns back to face the courtyard. "Gone," she answers. "They're uploading him with the new computer tonight."

(The perfect Intersect, Bryce Larkin. How could I ever compare?) "Off to save the world...?" (With one hand tied behind his back, and you on his arm...) "I guess both of you are." (Say no, say no, say no...)

"You want to dance?" she asks with a half-smile.

(Huh? Dance with you? Seriously?) He smiles widely, eyebrows rising in surprise at the question. "You know I do," he replies sincerely.

He leads her to the middle of the courtyard, still smiling. They slowly begin to sway to the music. (Okay, Chuck, this is it. This is your shot.) Even as he soaks in the sensation of Sarah in his arms, so close to what he wants, his stomach begins to twist into knots. (And of course it's my #17 Sarah mix, also known as almost leaving with Bryce #1. I've gotta say it this time.)

"You belong out there, saving the world," he begins. "I'm just...I'm just not that guy."

He feels Sarah's sigh against him as she asks, "How many times do you have to be a hero to realize that you _are _that guy?"

(Really? You think...? Wow. Just...crap. But...) "I want more, Sarah," he answers softly, regret coloring his voice. "I want a life. I want a real life." (I want it with you.)

They slowly stop dancing and Chuck's heart begins to race as he takes a breath, preparing to speak. (You'll never know if you don't ask. Just say it, ask her to stay.) Before he can get another word in, Sarah begins to speak.

"Chuck, I don't want to save the world..." Her eyes search his, her expression starting to steal his breath. "I want..."

(Oh my God, don't freak out, don't freak out...the look in her eyes...could she really want to stay...?) An incredulous smile starts to bloom on his face-

"Chuck, Chuck!" His father runs, panicked, up to the two of them. He drops his hands to his knees and hangs his head for a moment, panting.

(Oh, _come on!_ Seriously?! Damn it, Dad...)

"The agent, the agent who came for Bryce," he gasps, "he isn't a CIA agent. He's supposed to be dead."

(Huh?) "Dad, how could you possibly know that?" (Oh no. Why is he looking pained? Don't freak out...)

"Screw it...I – I have an Intersect in _my _head."

(Oh no freaking way! _Come on!_ My life...)

"I tested the computer on myself, I was young and stupid, but the intel was good. Th-That man isn't CIA."

(Oh no...If the intel was good...) "Bryce. Bryce is getting the upload _tonight._" (Not good, not good...)

"They're going to kill him. They'll download the Intersect into their team instead," his father states flatly.

(Oh no, oh no...)

Sarah's eyes widen in concern. "Well, if they know about Bryce, they know about Casey," she says worriedly.

She looks at him then, and it almost breaks his heart. Her eyes communicate things he's yearned to hear and yet have never reached the air. The missed opportunity is a lead weight in his heart. (I know she was going to say something important. _Damn Intersect!_) She tears her gaze away and walks quickly out of the courtyard to her car.

(No. No. I will not let that be the last time I see her. And I can't let her take them on alone.) "Sarah..." He turns to follow but his father lays a hand on his arm.

"Let her go, son, you've done your part."

"No, I _have _to go," Chuck protests. (I won't let her do this alone, it's too dangerous and she and Casey and even Bryce deserve all the help they can get.)

"No, no you don't," his father says with a frown and a shake of his head. "You're not a spy."

"Dad..." ('How many times do you have to be a hero to realize you_ are_ that guy?' I guess I am. I won't let you face this alone. I love you too much.) "... I _love _her." (You have got to believe me. I _have _to _go._)

His father locks eyes with Chuck, searching for something. He seems to find it, as he looks around and slips his hand up his sleeve. "I can't follow you, son, but take this." He hands Chuck his wrist computer.

(Whoa.) Chuck looks across the courtyard. (I can actually help even _without_ a government supercomputer in my head. My dad's is fine too_. Ha. _) "Thank you." (I hope I bring this and them back safe and sound.)

"Be safe, Charles," his father says emphatically.

"Thank you," Chuck answers meaningfully, as he follows the path Sarah had taken. He glances back at his father one last time as he leaves the courtyard. (I love you, Dad. I hope you know that, 'cause I have a sneaking suspicion you won't be here when I get back...)

***

He pulls Ellie's car into a spot outside the Orange Orange. (Thank goodness we arranged for me to borrow her car to give them the night alone.) As he enters, he runs directly into Sarah and Casey coming out of the back of the store in mission gear.

(Team Bartowski intact. Awesome.) "Hey, I'm coming with you."

"Stay here, it's not your mission," Casey grinds out.

(Is that an ice pack on the back of his head? Crap. Ah, but I still have a trick up my sleeve.) "Wait. This is the _Intersect_ we're talking about, and I'm a Bartowski." He pulls back his jacket sleeve to reveal Orion's computer. "You _need _me."

He sees the look Sarah and Casey's exchange, and the raised eyebrow and nod Casey gives her. (Aha. I'm in.) Casey looks at him and nods directly.

"Let's go," Chuck says as he heads for the door.

***

The ride to the facility where the Intersect is housed is deathly silent. Casey drives, one hand holding the ice pack to his battered head, the other deftly maneuvering them through traffic.

(I don't even need to ask to know that every second is vital.) He sighs and looks around the van, trying vainly to get Sarah to make eye contact. (Damn it, we were _so close_. Another thirty seconds, even, and I would know what Sarah, the real girl, feels about me in real life. What do you want, Sarah? Can't you tell me?)

He resists the urge to bang his head against the side of the van. Barely. (It's all Agent Walker now. There's no way I'm getting it out of her on the way to a mission.) As he stares unashamedly at her silhouette, he is determinedly optimistic. (Which is why we're going to take care of whatever is left of Fulcrum and then I'm going to take care of whatever this is between us.)

A near soundless stop to the van, and Casey gestures them out. (Benefit of a portable computer with the map and imaging capabilities this baby has. No more wait in the car!) He allows a small smile before they enter the building. As he guides them down one hallway, then around to the next, Casey gestures them to a halt to peek around a corner.

Gunfire greets him.

As Sarah joins Casey in the gunfight, she tosses over her shoulder at Chuck, "Chuck! Go get help."

(That's a task I can get behind.) He nods quickly and retraces his steps back down the hallway, but just before the turn, he stops. (And that's a task I can do from right here.) Tapping commands furiously into the computer, he realizes from a schematic that the air duct over his head leads into the vault with the Intersect. (Their poor planning is my entrance...)

The low ceiling is an ally as he hoists himself into the duct. (This looks much easier when they do it...as Casey learned the hard way. Ew. Shouldn't think of hard, Casey and that incident. Enough, Chuck. _Move._) He shimmies through the duct, consulting his computer along the way when he reaches his destination.

(Aw crap. Now I have to get through to the other side. The duct is too small to stand and kick the panel out. Gotta kick it out laying down...Here goes...everything...) Chuck works the panel loose and drops unceremoniously into the vault. A strangled "help" seems to escape him as he falls. (Oh God, I hope I didn't break anything.) He touches a hand to his ribs gingerly, and starts to roll over when he hears:

"Hello, Chuck."

He turns to see Bryce sitting against the wall.

* * *

**A.N.**: Had to stop it here, please don't hate me, but it was just the perfect point, as you'll hopefully see. What do you think, did I get Chuck right? Reviews can tell me so... ;)


	16. Chapter 12: Heroes and Villains

**Chapter 12 – Heroes and Villains**

**A.N.**: Disclaimer is still in Chapter 1. Further disclaimer: I am starting to not think Bryce is so much of a tool. (insert tongue in cheek) If Bryce-sympathy offends you, you may want to stop here. (/removes tongue from cheek) Kidding, people. Enjoy. And sorry for the long delay, work is insanity to the infinite power.

* * *

Bryce sighs as he gets in his car. (I knew she wasn't going to come back with me. That ship has sailed, and it's not flying my flag anymore...) He removes his earwig and tosses it into the glovebox as he shifts the Aston Martin into gear. (You'd think knowing that would make it easier.) "What's a guy got to do for a scotch?" he asks the air. (If only they programmed _that _feature into these cars...) He chuckles lightly to himself. (Good thing I'm not the regretful type.) "Computer, route," he calls to the air. The CIA onboard computer system pops a holographic GPS display into life at Bryce's peripheral vision. "Computer, play Hurt, UBleed." Hard rock pours from the speakers as Bryce pushes the DBS just a little harder around the bend. (Not usually, anyway...)

_**Because you bleed, and say you**_'_**re all right**_

_**You scream and tear at your poor eyes**_...

_**And you say it**_'_**s all right, even when it**_'_**s not**_...

*******

A third of the way into the trip, Bryce feels an insistent vibration under his hands. (Interesting...) The GPS display on his periphery flickers.

"Meet me in the courtyard," it types.

(Well I'll be damned. Guess I'm going to the reception too.) Bryce scans the street signs and plans his route back by memory.

(This ought to be interesting. Ducking the entire Bartowski clan, plus Sarah, in the space of that little courtyard. Just another day in the life. Lucky me.)

He sighs and shifts gears to the sound of Hurt's "Cold Inside" through the speakers. (The thrill of the hunt and the chase, yes, but this cloak and dagger routine with Orion is always so awkward. My reward for trying to keep Chuck out of the field is to be a bastard to him over and over again. One way or another.)

_**But "it should be okay," they said **_

_**"Just forget the pain," they said **_

_**Well, I could always, **_

_**Lie **_

_**And yet the doctor said that I would be just fine **_

_**Yeah the whitecoat said that I would live until I'm **_

_**Cold on the inside of me **_

_**I'm cold on the inside of me**_

He sends a coded message to Beckman, modifying his extraction location to the apartment, on the pretense that he's meeting Sarah. (Let Beckman think she's still got her Intersect team for a little while longer.)

The response is nearly instantaneous. "Agent escort being sent. Verification protocol Omega. Leave Walker. Separate transport." (Interesting. Probably doesn't want all Intersect personnel traveling together. Wouldn't _that _make the Ring happy -- one stop shop if you want the Intersect.)

He takes a curve faster than he should, feeling the adrenaline of fighting the road for traction start to bubble through him.

(I wish Chuck understood, I really was only trying to help. I really never pictured that he would get stuck...)

(I should've, but I didn't.)

(Damn it.)

(Well, screw it. He said no to working on the Intersect Project. Now he can have the life he's always wanted.)

(With my girl.)

The speedometer inches higher and higher as Bryce's thoughts turn unexpectedly melancholy.

(Never guessed an international man of mystery could feel so...)

He sighs, leaning his head back against the headrest for a moment as the thought completes itself.

(..._lonely._)

(No help for it now.) He shrugs it off as he gets out of the car and scans the street quickly, looking for familiar faces. Seeing none, he heads for the side of the courtyard. (Best place to do some covert searching.) He notices a man in a suit waiting at the side entrance and casts a deliberately absent smile at him.

"Beautiful night for a wedding," Bryce tosses off.

"Yes, it is, I'm just embarrassed I left the lithograph at home."

(As I expected.) He nods firmly, protocol completed, and enters the shadows of the outer courtyard.

He spots them in a heartbeat and his gaze lingers for a bittersweet moment. (They look...good. Damn it. They look _right. _She looks happy.) Sarah and Chuck continue to sway together, oblivious to his attention. He tears his eyes away quickly and spots Orion.

"Mr. Bartowski," Bryce says quietly. "Or is this an Orion conversation?" (Like I don't already know.)

"Bit of both," Orion answers with a sardonic smile.

(Okay, maybe I _don't _know. Interesting...)

Orion laughs without humor. "I reconfigured the Cube for you under two conditions: You stop looking for me, and you leave my son alone."

(And that's the plan, you should know that already.) "We asked Chuck to be on my team, he said no," Bryce protests. (And that's a big loss for the NSA, but they're letting it happen. What do you _really _want?)

Orion merely loses himself in thought.

(All right, that's enough. Cloak and dagger done.) Bryce casts a fleeting glance into the courtyard to see his ex-best friend whispering sweet nothings to his ex-girlfriend. Turning to leave, he calls behind him, "Goodbye, Orion." (And for good.) He pats his left pocket to reassure himself.

A surprisingly firm grip turns him around. Orion's face is hard. "You made changes – to the Intersect, to my initial design. The data architecture is different. What does this new computer do?"

Bryce answers honestly. "You don't want to know." (Hell, I wish _I _didn't know, and the plan is to put it into _my _brain.)

"Agent Larkin," comes a voice behind them. "It's time to go."

(Thank goodness.) Bryce turns around, and with a nod, follows him out.

If he'd looked at Orion for another 30 seconds, he might've survived the night.

***

The car ride is silent, and Bryce closes his eyes and leans his head back in the passenger seat as the nameless agent drives.

(And so ends an era. No more Orion, no more Chuck, no more Sarah. Just got to get me to the Intersect, and it's over.) He opens his eyes a slit to verify his location, and seeing he still has some distance, closes them again.

(How does he do it? Sarah is one of the best agents the CIA has to offer, and he's got her convinced she wants the suburbs and white picket fence. He _tamed _her.)

(She used to be _mine_.)

Bryce scoffs at the petty turn his thoughts had taken and opens his eyes. (Yeah, I'm sure she'd love that assessment. Sarah belongs to no one but herself.)

(I just wish she were still with me.)

He turns his face to look out the window. (But no one, including me, could ever care about her more than Chuck Bartowski. _He _broke her heart and his own because I said she'd get herself killed. _I _would've laughed at him and said she could take care of herself.) He gives a half-smile to no one as he makes his peace with it. (Good luck to both of you.)

The car slows and turns into the parking garage, and Bryce braces himself for the next phase of his career. (Time to see how I measure up...)

***

As they enter the Intersect location, Bryce finally breaks his silence. "Did you see her? Agent Walker? She's amazing, right?"

"Yes, sir," comes the cold response from his escort.

"She loves another guy. Bad day to be me." (In just about every way...) Maybe if he hadn't indulged himself, he would've caught the look in his escort's eye in time.

"You have no idea," the agent responds as he points a tranquilizer gun at Bryce.

"Mr. Larkin," comes Miles' smiling voice around the corner, as he enters with four other armed men.

(_Those_ aren't tranqs. Damn it!) Bryce gives Miles a small smile as he twists around and grabs the agent's arm, pointing the gun at Miles instead. He fires it down the hall at all of them, and flips around to use his traitorous escort as a shield when they return fire, making a break down the hallway.

Bryce quickly grabs a gun and pats his left pocket as he runs for the Intersect Room. (Best security in there, if I make it, I'm safe...) He ignores the burning in his side as he codes in. (Must be out of shape.) He hears the door shut behind him and closes his eyes for a moment against the sudden weakness in his limbs. (Need to take a break.) He slides down the wall to sit on the floor and tries to catch his breath.

(What the hell?) He hears some banging in the ceiling, and tilts his head back to look. (A vent. Damn it.) It swings open and someone yelps, "Help!" as they fall.

(Of course.) "Hello, Chuck."

"Bryce! Casey and Sarah are pinned down outside." Chuck is nearly vibrating with panic and fear, the relief in his eyes at seeing Bryce is overwhelming.

(Damn it...) "I'm on it," Bryce answers, and rolls to the side to get up. He groans, clutching his side, and opens his jacket to reveal what he is trying so hard to deny. (This is a problem.)

"Oh my god, you've been shot," Chuck bursts out.

"Yeah," Bryce gasps. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.) "I'm really sorry about this, Chuck." He presses a hand against his wound.

He hears the tears in Chuck's voice as Chuck protests, "No, no, it's okay, it's okay, you're going to be fine, it's not that bad."

(Oh, Chuck. If only.) "Take care of her," Bryce forces out.

"_Don_'_t_...don't say that. You're _not_ dying," Chuck responds determinedly.

(If only wishing could change it. Damn it, I just had one more thing to do before you'd be totally free...)

Chuck continues, "She needs you, man, okay? You...You guys are going to go on missions together, and, and, and, and do exciting things, and save the world, you'll be a team again, it'll be great."

Bryce frowns in surprise. (You didn't tell him?) "She wasn't gonna come," Bryce whispers, shaking his head. (You deserve to know, Chuck, after I took that chance from you.) "She wants..." A wave of pain assails him and he grimaces.

"Hold on. Hold on, _hold on_," Chuck cajoles.

(Damn it, got to...) He reaches into his pocket and extracts the circuit board he'd created when he'd heard what the new Intersect was capable of. (Couldn't trust anyone else.) "This'll destroy the Intersect. This new computer is too powerful. It's too dangerous." (Especially without me or Sarah. You of all people should understand.) He hands it to a confused and terrified Chuck.

"But you need...you need the computer to fight Fulcrum," Chuck protests.

Before Bryce can answer another debilitating wave of pain courses through him and he closes his eyes against it. (No time...) "Fulcrum...doesn't matter, all right?" Bryce manages. "They, they're just..." He gasps helplessly, feeling his body shutting down. "They're just one part of the Ring. _They_'_ll use it against us_, Chuck. You _have_ to do this. All right? You have to destroy that computer, and then you get out of here." (He'll do it. I know he will.) From a great distance, he hears Chuck's voice, but he can't understand the words. (Take care of her and you...)

His world fades abruptly to black.

"Yeah, but _you_ can beat them. You're...a real...hero, Bryce. Bryce? Oh my god."

* * *

**A.N.:** Yes, this is very nearly the end! I'm sad but excited -- I may dabble in AU Season 3, I think. :) Though, you know, reviews and stuff encourage me. Please?


	17. Chapter 13: Chuck vs the Ring

**Chapter 13 – Chuck vs. the Ring**

**A.N.**: Disclaimer in Chapter 1. Makes sense that this is unlucky 13, when it all falls apart...or does it? This is the last full chapter! Got a three-part epilogue to go, and then...AU Season 3?

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(Oh thank goodness.) "Bryce! Casey and Sarah are pinned down outside." (You gotta help them, I don't know what else to do or who else to trust...)

"I'm on it," Bryce acknowledges. As he starts to twist, he grimaces, drawing Chuck's gaze down.

"Oh my god."

(No.)

(Oh no.)

(No, no, that's not blood, that's not...) "Oh my god, you've been shot!" (Not good, not good...)

"Yeah," Bryce groans, raising his eyebrows as if to say, _obviously_.

(Oh my god, what do I – can I – should I -) Chuck swallows hard and reflexively reaches towards Bryce, before snatching his hands away. (Would I do more harm? Could I help?)

"I'm really sorry about this, Chuck," Bryce whispers.

(He can't be dying, he can't.) Chuck finds it hard to swallow as he protests, "No, no, it's okay, it's okay, you're going to be fine, it's not that bad." (You can't give up, Bryce, they need you.)

Chuck sees the effort it takes for Bryce to speak. "Take care of her," Bryce finally says.

(What? Me? Sarah?) "_Don_'_t_...don't say that. You're _not_ dying." (You have to believe that. _I _have to believe that!) "She needs you, man, okay? You...You guys are going to go on missions together, and, and, and do exciting things, and save the world, you'll be a team again, it'll be great." (She'll be alive and so will you and without me she'll be fine. You'll take care of her.) He grabs Bryce's ankle and shakes it firmly. (Snap out of it!)

Bryce frowns at him. "She wasn't gonna come," he protests, shaking his head. "She wants..." A wave of pain assails him and he grimaces.

(She - what? She wants...? ) "Hold on, hold on, _hold on_," he firmly tells Bryce. (Oh god, if that's what she was gonna tell me at the reception...)

Bryce reaches into his pocket and extracts a circuit board. "This'll destroy the Intersect. This new computer is too powerful. It's too dangerous."

(What? No! Destroy...?) Chuck looks at the blood-coated card and nearly recoils in horror. (We can't destroy the Intersect!) He takes it from Bryce's unsteady hand. "But you need...you need the computer to fight Fulcrum."

"Fulcrum...doesn't matter, all right?" Bryce forces out. "They, they're just..." He gasps in pain.

(No-no-no-no-)

"They're just one part of the Ring."

(Oh god, Fulcrum isn't it?) Chuck frowns, confused, as Bryce continues.

"_They_'_ll use it against us_, Chuck. You _have_ to do this. All right? You have to destroy that computer and then you get out of here."

(I can't...) "Yeah, but _you_ can beat them." (That's why you're Bryce Larkin.) "You're...a real...hero, Bryce." (Oh no.) "Bryce?" (Please answer.) "...Oh my god."

Bryce's head lolls to the side, and his eyes just stare off into space.

(Oh God. Oh no. What do I do now? You can't be dead...) He looks down again at the card in his hand, and glances towards the door. (Oh God.) He runs to the terminal in the center of the room. (Bryce is dead. How can Bryce be dead? He can't be dead. This can't be real. If I just do like he says, maybe this will be a bad, bad dream.) He looks down at the screen, the green lettering seeming to scream. "_Do you wish to activate?_" it demands.

(Oh God. If I destroy the Intersect, it's all gone. All the data, any chance of using it to take down Fulcrum, any information about whatever the Ring is...)

"_Do you wish to activate?_"

He looks down at the handprint pad on the console, again, asking, "_Activate?_" (Bryce just _died_ over this.) A flash unlike any he'd known before happens in a heartbeat.

_Talking to Sarah about not understanding why Bryce chose him_

_Sarah saying he can do anything_

Chuck looks down at the card again. (Bryce's blood. That's Bryce Larkin's blood. And he's dead.)

_Bryce on video, protesting that Chuck won_'_t survive in the field._

(Bryce _died_ over this, the Intersect. Over what it can do, what information it holds.)

_Beckman declaring it was time for him to become a spy_

_Protesting that he_'_s just Chuck Bartowski_

'_How many times do you have to be a hero to realize that you _are_ that guy?_'

(Sarah believes in me, Beckman even, and Bryce is dead. There's no one else.)

He places his palm on the pad and watches as the "_Do you wish to activate?_" becomes the words, "_Intersect Activating..._" The cube whirrs to life as the lights shut down bit by bit throughout the room.

(Oh god, Sarah...I'm so sorry, I have to...)

The Intersect upload is nothing like before. The subliminal coding is almost soothing, hypnotic. Chuck rocks slowly back and forth as his eyelids flutter. When he comes out of it, he staggers, but catches himself on the console, remaining conscious this time.

(For you, Bryce.) He slides the board into the input slot, watching as an angry red "_Power Surge_" warning appears on the screen. "_System Failure_," it protests, as the screen cracks and the cube burns itself out. Chuck backs away from the console as the circuits between the myriad of screens that comprise the vault sizzle and break. (Holy crap.)

The door opens and a man --

(_Miles Phillip Lt. USMC; unit led by Casey John C. Col. USMC, NSA; Fulcrum Affiliation Unknown _Holy crap was that a _flash_?)

-- walks into the room, gun drawn and pointed at Chuck. "What did you do?" he demands, nodding towards the Intersect console.

(Hopefully the right thing.)

His silence is apparently the wrong answer as Miles advances further into the room, the question repeated with a firearm alarmingly close to Chuck's face. "_What did you do?!_" Miles repeats forcefully.

"I destroyed it," Chuck replies, disgust lacing his voice. "You're too late." (Please don't let him realize I'm slurring my words...)

"For that, you'll die last," Miles promises, circling around Chuck to the defunct console as his men enter behind him. Two of the men push two prisoners into the room.

(No!) Sarah enters first, and at the sight of her, Chuck can't help his gaze from dropping to his departed friend.

Sarah follows his gaze and spots Bryce staring off into space, denial leaping to her defense. "Bryce?" she prompts. She moves to his body and shakes him desperately. "Bryce!"

(Oh god, Sarah, I'm so sorry...) He watches despairingly as she struggles with her captors and screams, "Don't you touch him!" (I'm not so sure Bryce was right...) His heart breaks slightly as she kicks and fights to get to Bryce's body as they drag it away down the hall. The Ring agents shove Sarah into the corner with Casey, leaving Chuck to share a pained glance with Sarah as the agents take position on a one-to-one guard of the captives.

"I'm sorry," he mouths silently. (I'm so sorry, Sarah, I don't know what I was thinking, asking you to stay, or what Bryce was thinking, believing you weren't gonna go. But I just got the love of your life killed and I hope you can forgive me for that, someday...)

"There's nothing left!" Miles bursts out, ceasing his futile attempts to activate the destroyed Intersect. Sarah and Casey turn their attention to him, Casey's eyes taking on a satisfied predatory gleam.

"So, you lose," Casey says with supreme satisfaction. Miles straightens and moves towards Sarah and Casey, as all four underlings move to surround Chuck.

(Oh crap.) Chuck's eyes dart between all of the guards and settling on the scene unfolding with Miles and his former handlers, panic sending bursts of adrenaline shooting through him.

"You should know this," Miles declares firmly. "No one stops us. No one ever has."

(Oh no, Sarah, don't...) Chuck sees the look in her eyes and his stomach starts to drop. He swallows hard as he hears Sarah speak.

"Who are you?" she asks, raking her horror-filled eyes up and down the man before her.

"Spies, Agent Walker," Miles nods with satisfaction. He raises his gun to her forehead as he concludes, "The best."

(Sarah!) Chuck's adrenaline spikes and suddenly a thin film drops over his vision. He slips back into the soothing hypnosis of the upload as an alarmingly Terminator-esque calculus takes place. The Intersect communicates with Chuck's conscious mind, telling him what needs to happen. (But I don't know how to do that!) As if prompted by his protests, signals tingle along his synapses, filter through his nerves, muscles lightly twitching in preparation for action. His mind absorbs thousands of years of technique and strategy, the feeling like fireworks exploding through his brain.

And just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

(Holy crap.)

"Sir, you should look at this," one of Chuck's guard's calls. Miles turns to look at Chuck while Sarah watches in horror.

"Chuck, did you just _flash_?" Sarah asks, her voice sounding strange and panicked.

(Oh crap, damn it, Sarah!) Chuck's gaze focuses and he looks down at the ground, not answering Sarah or meeting Miles' gaze. (You had to say it.)

"He uploaded it," Miles declares.

"Oh, Chuck me," Casey murmurs from the corner, looking at Chuck assessingly.

"Kill him," Miles orders, turning away to return to his quarry in the corner.

(_Now!_) Chuck can't tell who gave the command, but his leg snaps out, along with his arms, to disarm all five men surrounding him. (Gotta get control-)

He kicks, punches, flips, all the while fighting for conscious control of his own head and limbs. (I couldn't even scratch my nose if I wanted to.) He executes a reverse cartwheel into a backflip and looks down at his hands as he lands. (Holy crap!) He pauses for a moment and looks at the enemies arrayed in front of him, then spares a moment to look at Casey and Sarah. Casey has a looks amazed, but Sarah seems torn between shock and horror.

(Can't worry about that now. Immediate danger passed, Intersect override standing down -- standing down?! -- now I'm in control...) He quickly plots strategy and a forward roll gets him back into the fray. He kicks and punches and dispatches of the enemy agents until only Miles – whom the Intersect had identified as the most senior – remains. (Come get some, sucker.) He meets Miles blow for blow, arms circling and deflecting, blocking and counterpunching, until he lands a straight blow to Miles' chest, his fingers seeking to break skin and bone. Miles recoils and Chuck follows with a straight kick to the stomach, letting out a guttural "ki-ai" as Miles hits the wall and bounces to the floor.

(Holy crap!) Breathing heavily, Chuck looks around the floor to see the five spies he managed to lay out, while still in karate stance. (I...did that?) Casey looks like a kid at Christmas, eyes wide and darting around to absorb everything. Sarah's face is inscrutable. Chuck finally releases his fists, lowering his arms and still struggling to regain his breath.

"Chuck?!" Sarah questions, her voice an octave higher in panic.

(Holy crap. Oh my god.) He swallows hard, trying to get moisture back in his mouth as he answers. "Guys..._I know kung fu._" (I really, really hope I did the right thing.)

(I really, really do.)

_To be continued_...

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**A.N.**: And there you have it, my darlings. Chuck vs. the Ring, as retold by me. :) I have an epilogue to come, and then...AU Season 3...Unless, of course you don't like this. Which I will take your lack of reviews to be telling me. And then no AU Season 3. So, seriously. Please. Review??


	18. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**A.N**. Even after my grand retelling of Chuck vs. the Ring, they won't let me have him. :( So, I don't own Chuck. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, and to the lurkers too. Would love to hear from you if you've enjoyed this, especially since I've got a Season 3 in my head...

Let the games begin...

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**Chuck's POV**

"Guys..._I know kung fu._"(Holy crap.)

Casey looks at him with undisguised glee. "What else do you know, Chuck?"

Chuck pats down Miles and extracts the key to the cuffs. "I...I don't know, Casey," he distractedly answers as he releases them. "I really have no idea." (And I am trying very hard not to think about how disconcerting that is.)

He reflexively retrieves a discarded Glock, checks the clip, tightens the silencer, and plasters himself in the corner to cover the hallway as he exits the room. He hears Casey and Sarah join him and holds up a clenched fist. (We're not leaving without him.) Chuck enters a series of queries and commands into the wrist computer and motions the team forward. (That should confuse them.) "Sound analysis shows the Ring team's comm channel is scrambled radio stations when passive," Chuck says quietly. "I _un_scrambled them, which should mean the driver is listening to static from when all their heads hit the floor." He allows himself a small smile. "This was a skeleton crew op, too dangerous for too many to know about." (Or at least, I...think...?)

"Chuck, how do you know this?" Sarah whispers urgently.

"I...I don't know." (How the hell _do _I know?) "I don't know that I _actually _know, I think...I think it's probability, the Intersect seems to be doing game theory analysis and I'm just reporting on it." (And that's not scary at all. What the hell did I just get myself into?!) He looks down at his wrist with a sardonic smile. "But I _do _know there's only one person in the parking lot. That's courtesy of my dad." He shakes his wrist at Casey and Sarah for emphasis. (And let's just forget the rest of it for now.)

Chuck holds up three fingers, counting down. At zero, the three of them burst through the door, guns trained on the driver of the black SUV outside.

"Out," Chuck barks, whipping the door open. (You're lucky I'm not in imminent danger, or you'd be dead.) The driver assesses the situation -- Chuck at the door, Sarah covering the rear, and Casey in front.

(Oh, thinking you can just run us down?) "Try it," Chuck taunts. "See if you can start this gas-guzzling monster before he and I unload our entire clips into your moronic skull. I haven't had any gunplay in months, and him?" Chuck cocks his head towards Casey. "He hasn't gotten _laid _in that long, and he's a cold school killer on a _good _day." Chuck smiles, and the predatory gleam in his eyes must have been convincing. The driver lifts both hands to the back of his neck.

"That's what I thought," Chuck murmurs with satisfaction. "Sarah, secure our guest," he calls. (Because I know you don't need to be there when I open the trunk...) "Casey, with me," he says, nodding his head towards the trunk.

"Chuck, do you have cuffs?" Sarah asks sweetly.

(Ha, I can give you that satisfaction, at least...) He makes a production of emptying his pockets. "Gee, Sarah, I don't! How about you be creative?"

She smiles. "I think I can handle that."

(That's probably the last smile you see on a croc before it eats you.) "Casey, help me with this?" Chuck opens the trunk almost reverently and he and Casey pause somberly at the sight of the contents. (Damn. I knew it.)

"Out," Sarah repeats. The driver complies, keeping his hands behind his head and sliding down to stand. Sarah tilts her head thoughtfully, nods, and coldcocks him with her pistol. As the body drops to the ground, she smiles again, landing a solid kick to her prey's ribs. "That's better," she declares.

There are no other words, as Chuck and Casey carefully lift their burden and shift it to the van. He looks down at the cloth-covered shape for a lingering moment before closing the van doors. (I hope I did the right thing, Bryce...I really do.) He looks at Sarah then, as tears run silently down her face. His resolve hardens. (I know you didn't want me to, but, well, let's face it. You've underestimated me before. This time, I'm going to prove you wrong and make Sarah proud.)

(I have to.)

(There's no one else but me.)

***

**Orion's POV**

Orion watches the twinkling Christmas lights receding in his rear view and his heart clenches. (Charles, Eleanor, I'm so, so sorry. I hope you can make her understand somehow, Charles. I love you both more than you'll ever know, and I just can't stay. It's not safe. It's not even safe for Charles, but I'm going to be watching. Always.) His melancholy is cut short by an unexpected vibration from his encrypted PDA. (Charles?)

He pulls over, unwilling to chance the distraction. Shutting off the ignition, Orion blows out a breath and clicks over to his messaging program. (What the...) He recognizes the verification code and opens the attached video file as an unexpected voice fills the trailer.

"Hello, Orion. Bet you never figured I could reverse hack you. But being roommates with Chuck taught me a couple of things." Recorded-Bryce paused, looking away from the camera, and then back. "It taught me more than a couple. Like how to treat the people you care about. Orion, if you're seeing this, it means that my biometrics have gone flatline for longer than five minutes, and a series of recordings are now being sent from a secure computer off the grid. Yes, off the grid. I wish I could've told you while you were setting it up, but the new Intersect...it's more than a computer, it's a weapon, and a nearly sentient one at that. I've been after Fulcrum for a year now, and I have to tell you, what I've found is sickening, and what our government is willing to do is worse. You were right to tell Chuck not to trust anyone. Sarah, yeah, and maybe, just maybe, Casey too. But beyond that? I'm not sure. In fact, I'm so unsure I didn't put everything I learned in my reports to Beckman.

I promised you I'd protect Chuck. I've tried. But I don't know if that's even possible anymore. This is bigger than you or me or Fulcrum. To understand, you're going to have to trust me. There's this town, Moab, in Utah..."

***

**Anonymous POV**

A lone figure sat in the darkness, smiling a small smile. (Exactly according to plan.)

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..._**End epilogue**_. On to Season 3! That is, if you want...?


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